


Like Sunshine

by Tiffany_Park



Series: Tales from Seresu [4]
Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Angst, Drama, Fantasy, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-03 21:26:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 54
Words: 148,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiffany_Park/pseuds/Tiffany_Park
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A title, an avalanche, and the inevitable course of destiny.  Takes place about, oh, say, around a year and a half after the end of "Choosing Priorities."  Fai is roughly nine years old.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Header and Disclaimers

TITLE:  Like Sunshine

AUTHOR:  Tiffany Park

CATEGORY:  Drama, Angst, follows "Embracing Destiny" and "Choosing Priorities"

SERIES: The series is still untitled. The stories should be read in the following order: "Embracing Destiny," "Choosing Priorities," "Cooking Magic," "Like Sunshine." "The Siren Call and Many Complications of Chocolate Mousse Cake" and "The Further Complications of Chocolate Mousse Cake" can be viewed as side stories to this series. Fai is 10 in them, so they follow "Like Sunshine."

SPOILERS:  Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle Chapitres 150 through 172. 

RATING:  PG

CONTENT WARNINGS: None.

SUMMARY:  A title, an avalanche, and the inevitable course of destiny.  Takes place about, oh, say, around a year and a half after the end of "Choosing Priorities."  Fai is roughly nine years old.

STATUS:  In Work

ARCHIVE:  Please ask first

DISCLAIMER:  Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle and its characters belong to CLAMP, Del Rey Ballantine Books, Random House Inc., Kodansha Ltd., Funimation, and probably a whole bunch of other people and companies I know nothing about.  This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands.  No copyright infringement is intended.  The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author.  This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:  This story came about because some people requested a bit of light at the end of the Tunnel of Unending Gloom that was "Choosing Priorities."  While I rather liked the idea that all was gloom, doom, despair, and loss for Ashura and Seresu, I eventually came around (probably because I've got a new doggie and am in a good mood).  Besides, as was pointed out to me, CLAMP themselves left open a tiny, ambiguous shred of hope.  Might as well make use of it.

This story was originally intended to be just a short little ditty of a few scenes that could be read as a standalone, but naturally it grew a lot larger and became thoroughly tied in with the "Choosing Priorities" world.  In fact, it refused to come together until I just went with it.  So there are many references to things that happened in the previous stories (for example, the pretty world Ashura visits in his first dream and the location of Fai's investiture ceremony are taken from CP, and the full explanation of the royal "problem" and the origins of the D title come from ED).  While I tried to explain some of them, there are a large number of these kinds of references and they won't probably make a whole lot of sense to anyone who hasn't read CP and ED.

If anyone is interested in the full background, the stories should be read in the following order:  "Embracing Destiny," "Choosing Priorities," "Cooking Magic," "Like Sunshine."

As always, for consistency's sake I tried to stick with the official Del Rey translation for the dialogue and events that I used from the manga.

I have a lot going on in RL right now, so updates may be erratic.  I always try to post status on my ffn profile if there's going to be a delay, so if you think it's been too long since there's been an update (say, a month or so), check there.  There's probably a RL reason.


	2. I:  Ashura's Miracle

**I:  Ashura's Miracle**

 

Snow flurries swirled around him, obscuring his sight.  Ashura walked forward through the dreamscape, always forward, leaning into the biting wind.  Ice grew underfoot, spreading with each step he took.  The whole world froze as he passed through it, and he could see nothing but white.

Behind him, he heard a sharp scream of pain.

He ignored it.

Wind gusted; a burst of ice crystals drove against his flesh like tiny needles.  His hair whipped about his face.  More screams sounded.  He kept pushing forward, toward the future.  He had made his choices; he had no choices.

There was only one way to save Fai.

He didn't look back at the bloodshed, the murders and horror, that raged through his country.  Nor did he spare a glance back at the madness, bloodlust, and ecstasy that he knew was consuming his soul in the dream that would destroy him and Seresu.

He kept walking forward, and accepted that the dream would happen.  That it must happen.  He told himself that he wanted it to happen, and in his mind both darkness and a tiny, bright spark of hope whispered with ruthless and loving insistence that it was necessary and unavoidable.

All he and Fai need do was live their lives.  Just live, and no more.  Just live out their remaining years in Seresu and take what joy they could, joy and bitterness, and all else that would fill and enrich the years of their shared lives, and this dream would come.  It would come as surely as the sun rose each morning and set each evening, as surely as the moon passed through its phases, and as the stars burned in the heavens.  Nothing more need be done.  So whispered the darkness and the hope.

Yet Ashura couldn't stop searching.  It was a sickness in him, he knew, a compulsion, a deep-seated denial of what was meant to be.  That dream might be the only way he could save Fai, but it was fraught with peril and the potential for failure.

Failure meant Fai's death.

Fai couldn't die.  He just couldn't.

And so, though he knew better, Ashura would always search for more, for a way that wasn't so perilous and uncertain, for a way that would secure the future and save Fai's life.

The shrieks faded with distance, and the snow blew thicker and colder, until all he heard was the howling wind, all he saw were white, frozen flurries.  With each step he took, the world grew colder, darker and colder, freezing into death as he passed through it.

Night fell.

The barren land crackled with cold and snow and death.  Sleet glazed the black skeletons of trees, their bare trunks and branches enrobed in gleaming shrouds of ice, dripping icicles like jewels.  Like his court, his nobles dressed for a formal ball, in sumptuous silks and velvets and sparkling jewelry, and the lords and ladies twirled about one another to music he couldn't hear, and they froze, like the trees were frozen, forever frozen in their dance of ice and death.

He kept walking until the frozen trees were far behind him, and he came at last to a field of ice, nothing but ice, crazed throughout with innumerable tiny cracks that glittered with harsh promise of the shattering to come.  The shattering of the world, of his mind, his heart and soul.  He was the King of Winter, as crazed as this ice field, as bleak and as doomed, as dead as the land and people his passage had frozen.  He was the King of Winter, and everything he touched froze and died, and loss and despair were his portion.

The snow and wind died away, and all became very still.

Ashura stopped walking and looked up.

In terrible silence, the night sky cleared.  Stars burned, burned so bright with life and fury and denial of fate.  The constellations rose and set, rose and set, over and over, for years they rose and set.  And the moon hung high above, triumphant over all, ruling over everything, over Seresu's doom, a crescent moon, a waning moon.

The crescent grew thinner and thinner, yielding less and less light, inviting in the darkness.  And the darkness accepted, devouring all light, growing thicker and stronger as the moon waned, and the hope waned with it.

Then the last sliver of moon vanished, and the stars diminished and flickered out, one by one by one.  The glittering field of ice shattered, and everything went black as the ultimate night reigned.

But the night didn't last forever.

Time passed, and the darkness weakened, its edges fraying and surrendering to soft hints of gray.  Streaks of pink and gold appeared, warm and gentle, rising up over the broken glacier.  Winter resisted, but the sun could not be denied.  The shards of ice melted in the dawning day, and the sky was blue, gloriously blue, as blue as Fai's young eyes.

Ashura found himself standing in a green meadow, the field dotted with wildflowers and warmed by morning sunshine.  Dewdrops shimmered in the clear light, each a delicate little prism that gave off a myriad of tiny, hazy rainbows.  Butterflies flitted among the colorful blossoms, and birdsong enchanted his ears.  Graceful trees at the edge of the field bore more flowers, and even some ripening fruits.  With wonder, he gazed about, taking in the life and beauty and heavenly warmth.  It was familiar and comfortable; he'd been here before.

It had been so long since he'd come here, so very long, since before he'd become King of Seresu.  In his youth, he had world-walked to this place, this world so different from his own country.  He'd visited many times, once even bringing his cousin Kendappa, although transporting her along with him had taken almost all his strength.  He'd kept this wonderful place a secret, even after his people had found out about his world-walking ability, and had made Kendappa swear that she would never reveal its existence.  To his joy, she had always kept that vow.

It was a special place, a magical place, a refuge for a crown prince who was set apart from all his people, not only by his position, but by abilities he possessed that no one else shared.  Not the ability to do magic, no, that was no difference.  Every member of the royal family was magical.  But he was the most powerful magician born in living memory, and also one who dreamed the future, and could journey to other worlds.  His strength in magic was no secret, and never had been.  The secret of his world-walking had become known despite his wishes, but his dreaming ability remained forever hidden.

Even after he had become king, and had stopped visiting this lovely world, he had kept the prophetic dreams secret.  Even though it had cost him his wife, his children, everything important, he had kept it secret.

It had not been hard to do.

He had tried to explain, when he was a child, but no one had believed.  Silly, childish fantasies, they all said.  A prince should know better than to make up ridiculous stories.  The heir to the throne should comport himself better.

Even after his dreams came true, no one ever believed.  Coincidence, they all said.  Dismiss it from your mind, they told him.  A future king should not be so fanciful and weak-minded as to ascribe any particular significance to dreams and simple coincidences.

True prophecy such as his was unknown in Seresu, and always denied even in the face of uncompromising evidence.  It was a land of magicians, and yet no one could believe that the future might be known with certainty.  Only the divinations of Seresu's sisterhood of wise women, the Völur, were accepted, and those foretellings were but insights and interpretations based on the patterns of events in the present, not absolute knowledge of the future.

After just a few such painful lessons, he had learned to stay silent.  Everyone approved when he quit telling stories of the future.

The years passed, and he often dreamed the future, and though he tried, he never succeeded at changing the events to come, no matter how dire they might be and how hard he worked to avert them.  So sometimes, when he woke with unbidden knowledge of what would be, frightful knowledge that he did not desire and that he could neither share nor change, he would come to this place of eternal spring, where birds and butterflies and fields of flowers and green grass soothed his heart.

But then he had become king, and due to the vows and obligations of his office, he journeyed here no more.

He missed it, he realized as he breathed in the sweet air.  He missed it so much.  He closed his eyes and lifted his face, letting the warmth of the sun's rays bathe his skin.

A child laughed.

Ashura's eyes blinked open in shock.  There had never been any other people here before.  He looked about him, but saw no one else.

The child laughed again.

His head swiveled in the direction of that delightful sound.  He had to find it.  He had to know who else was here.  Or was that laughter just a delusion of this dream?  Was it merely a reminder of everything he would one day lose?

It didn't matter.  He had to see the source of that laughter for himself.

So again, he started walking, and he passed through the meadow, passed through the wildflowers, and the butterflies with their shining wings, and the soaring birds who sang so sweetly.  A gurgling brook led the way, and he followed it until he came to the small lake it fed.  Again, it was familiar, because he'd come to it before when he'd journeyed to this world in his youth.

But this time, a crowd of people stood near it.

He gaped, dumbstruck at the sight.

There were several hundred people there.  The style of their clothes and ornaments, their facial features, even their body types, marked them as citizens of Seresu.  His people.

His people...

They chattered among themselves, with relief, and a kind of quiet desperation, and also even with fear.  Such an odd mix of emotions.  About them were strewn a variety of supplies, their haphazard packaging proclaiming the hurried nature of the people's departure.  Some irrepressible children ran and played gaily, their laughter carried by the gentle breeze.  Others clung to their parents, with pale faces and large, frightened eyes.  The adults' nervous attention was focused on someone in the middle of the crowd, and Ashura heard a young man's voice, a familiar voice that he couldn't place but strained to hear with an unaccountable longing.  The man was telling everyone to be calm, that they were safe, that this kind world was a refuge where nothing could harm them.

How had all these people gotten here?  How did anyone even know this place existed?  Ashura moved in closer.  No one noticed him.  He was but a ghost to them, an unseen wraith, apart from their lives, their new world.  He moved through the crowds, unnoticed, unhindered, and came to the center to view the leader who promised his people warmth and comfort and safety.

The leader was a slender, blond man with bright blue eyes.  Ashura again felt a frisson of recognition.  He had seen this man somewhere before.  This person was important to him, he felt it.  He should remember this man, he should remember.  His heart lurched at the young man's face, at the sound of his voice.  Something in Ashura's soul wept, but he couldn't remember...

The young man spoke, telling the crowd that he would return to Seresu soon.

"But what about the beast?" a woman asked fearfully, clutching the hands of her two children.  "It kills entire villages.  Can it follow us here?"

A man added, "It moves about the kingdom so easily and swiftly, it must use some kind of translocation magic."

"You need never fear that murdering beast again," the young man assured them.  "It never ventures beyond our country's borders."

"But it seems so powerful—"

"I don't care what powers it has!" said the young man.  "I swear I will hunt it down and slay it.  And if I can't find it right away, I will fetch more of our people here to protect them from the danger."

More questions were asked and answered, but Ashura didn't hear.  His whole being had gone numb with cold, a cold so deep and profound his soul felt as though it had turned to solid ice.

The beast did, indeed, use translocation magic.  Ashura was the beast, his future self was the murdering beast that ravaged Seresu.  And this young man was Fai, his Fai, his child, all grown up and now a full-blooded warrior, a consummate, unmatched wizard.  His people's savior.

Ashura pressed a hand to his mouth to stifle the hysterical noise that tried to escape.  He didn't know if it was a laugh or a sob.  It hardly mattered.

For long moments, he just stood there, shaking and disbelieving and feeling such joy that he thought his heart would burst.  He would not kill all his people.  Some would be saved, by the very person that Ashura wished to save.  It was all he could do to keep himself from rushing forward and wrapping his arms around Fai in a hug of gratitude so soul-deep it couldn't be expressed with any words.

Instead, with a rush of weakness, he fell to his knees, feeling tears of pure, unadulterated happiness in his eyes.  His humbling went unheeded.  He was apart from this scene, merely a dreamer of future events, and took no part in what occurred.  No one saw their king, their destroyer, kneeling before his son in the wild grasses and flowers.

He had always known that Fai's powers were amazing.  And they would remain so, even with the abominable marking that Ashura knew Fai would bear to restrain his magic.  That Fai had been able to transport so many to another world, even with that handicap—it was incredible.  It was a miracle.

Fai had always been Ashura's miracle.

Almost immediately, darker thoughts rose.  He should try to prevent this future.  Every Seresian life saved from Ashura's killing spree was lifeblood and magic denied him.  He might need it all to surpass Fai's power, to trigger Fai's first curse and by so doing free him from the second, the curse that would destroy him.  Ashura might need even the small amount of blood Fai kept safe here, in this warm and lovely world, this world that had once been Ashura's refuge.  Even these few people could tip the scales in Ashura's favor, even they could help to save Fai.

He should, Ashura knew he should—but he already accepted that he would never do anything to change this future.  He couldn't.  He was too grateful to Fai, too overwhelmingly thankful that even these few of his people would survive him, that some small part of Seresu would live on beyond him and the destruction of their world.

And these people were, truly, safe from him.  He would never come here to take their lives, their life energy and magic, no matter how great his need.  It took him an immense effort to walk across worlds.  He would not be willing to expend such great amounts of power required for world-walking, not while he was attempting to increase his magical strength.  The blood of these few hundred people would not make up for the amount of magic required for him to journey here.  Truly, Fai's choice of sanctuary was excellent.  These people were safe.

They were safe.

He looked around, but didn't see any familiar faces.  No one from his family was present.  That hardly surprised him.  He expected his blood, the Royal House of Vanir, to die with him.  They were mystically tied to Seresu, as he was.  Every one of them bore the same potential for madness and murder as he.  It was inherent in their blood, a taint that went back to the very beginnings of the royal bloodline.  It grieved him, but it was for the best that they all die with Seresu.

But there was also no one present from his court, nor from the castle staff.  No nobles, no wizards, not even the lowliest stable boy or scullery maid.  Fai would probably focus on the ones he perceived to be most vulnerable, the villagers and farmers, rather than those protected by strong castle walls.  He wouldn't realize that no one was safe from the beast.  No one connected to Ashura would be saved, it seemed, not even his poor servants.

His regret was fleeting.  These people that Fai had preserved would start anew.  They didn't know it, but they would never return to their old and comfortable lives.  Fai would become caught up in tumultuous, worlds-shattering events, and never return to take them home.  There would be no home for them to go back to.

In any case, it was better that they remain ignorant of what would become of Seresu.  They would have to make a new life and civilization for themselves here, and they would be far, far better off without the royal family or its adherents among them.  They could truly be free of the past, and have a real future of their very own in their new world.

Ashura resolved to make certain that Fai knew how to get to this place.  Once Fai started to learn world-walking techniques, this would be the very first world he ventured to.  Ashura would make sure of that.  No matter what, he would have had to select a safe world for Fai's first dimensional journey.  How perfect this world was for such training purposes.  And how marvelously perfect it was for Fai's future actions.

Ashura stood up and drank in the sight of his son, of his people, and of the world that had once been his private refuge, and now would serve as his people's new home.  Then, with a burst of laughter, he spread his arms wide and twirled around and around, giddy that all was not to be lost, after all.  His ghostly limbs passed through the bodies of the unknowing crowd, but he didn't care and kept on spinning.  Fai, his heart sang, Fai, you are my salvation!

And as the dream faded, he swore that he would return the favor someday.  As Fai saved his people, he would save Fai.  He would.

When Ashura woke, there were tears on his cheeks, but he was smiling.


	3. II:  Wizard of Wizards

 

**II:  Wizard of Wizards**

 

Ashura was still smiling at breakfast.

In particular, he couldn't stop smiling at Fai.  He would never forget the events of his last dream, nor of Fai's role in them.  He would probably spend the rest of his life searching out ways to thank Fai for that all important gift.

His abstraction must have been noticeable, because his breakfast companions, Fai and his cousin, Kendappa, kept eyeing him suspiciously.

Ashura couldn't bring himself to care if they thought he was absent-minded this morning.  It was true, anyway.  The sunlight shafting through the windows of the private solar was bright and cheerful, as though Seresu's weather was perfectly in sync with his mood.  He barely noticed the handful of servants that buzzed about, serving and removing the various dishes.  Kendappa chatted with Fai about his schedule for the day.  She tried to engage Ashura in the conversation a few times, and each time he just nodded, said, "Yes, yes, I agree," and retreated back into his pleasant, warm haze.

Kendappa wrinkled her brows at that reaction.  Then she just rolled her eyes and ignored him.

However, Fai blurted out, "Is something wrong with you?  Are you getting sick or something?"

Kendappa choked and covered her mouth with one hand.  That was just as well, because she had been chewing on some smoked venison, and Ashura really wasn't interested in seeing half-masticated reindeer meat sprayed all over the table.  Or all over himself, for that matter.  His good mood was unlikely to survive such an event.

At least that threat woke him up a bit.

"I'm fine, Fai," he replied, a little belatedly.

"You're not sick?"

"No.  Just the opposite, in fact.  I've never felt better."

Fai scowled.  "Then why are you acting so strange?"

"Strange?"  Ashura smiled a little more.

"There you go doing it again!"

"What?"

"You keep staring at me and smiling."

Kendappa turned away.  More choking noises came from her direction.

Ashura supposed that his dreaminess and overt display of fondness might be a little bit disturbing to Fai.  "I'm not allowed to smile at you?"

"No," Fai said.  "Stop it."  He sat back, scowled harder, and folded his arms across his chest, as if that settled everything.

Even his grumpiness was charming.  At least, it was this morning.  Under normal circumstances, Ashura didn't find bratty, disrespectful behavior particularly endearing, but this morning was special.

Fai's scowl grew even deeper.  "May I be excused?  I have a lesson."

Ashura glanced at the child's plate.  Fai had made a good breakfast.  There wasn't a single bite left.

"Yes, you may go."  As Fai moved past him, Ashura snagged him for a quick hug.  He dropped a kiss on top of Fai's head.

Fai made a disgusted noise and squirmed, and Ashura reluctantly released him.  He watched his son dart out of the room, and called, "Be good for your tutors!"

The promise "I will!" came back to him as Fai disappeared out the door.

"I suppose he's getting old enough to be embarrassed by hugs," Ashura murmured to himself, smiling at the door.

Kendappa huffed.  "Fai's right, you know."

"Hmmm?"  He turned back to face her.  She had recovered from her choking episode, and was cutting up another morsel of venison.

"About your behavior."  She set down her utensils and inspected him, scowling as hard as Fai had been.  "You are in an awfully good mood this morning."  She cast a glance at the now empty doorway.  "And in a doting one, as well.  What brought this on?"

"I just had a good dream last night," Ashura replied vaguely.  He slathered an excessive amount of butter and cloudberry preserves on a thick slice of warm bread.

"Is that so?"  Her face relaxed as she considered that.  "You do seem rather well rested.  What was it about?"

"I can't really remember," he lied.  He couldn't tell her the truth, and it was common enough to forget dreams.  "I just know it was nice."

As he expected, Kendappa accepted his statement at face value.  She remarked, "What a nice change for you from your usual routine of night terrors."

"Oh, my dreams aren't that bad," Ashura said, feeling oddly compelled to deny that accusation, despite the fact that the entire castle was aware of his oft-difficult nights.

"You have enough nightmares for the whole country," she replied sourly.

Ashura covered his flinch by casually nibbling on his bread and jam.  Kendappa didn't realize how true that statement was, he reflected, just not in the way she meant it.  However, he refused to let it destroy his good mood.  He swallowed, then tried to change the topic.  "So, what do you have planned for today?"

The sheer incredulity on his cousin's face almost made him laugh aloud.  She asked, "Were you listening to anything at all that I said this morning?"

Well, no, he hadn't been.  "I take it you and Fai were discussing the day's activities while I was woolgathering."

"Yes."  She raised an elegant brow.  "And 'woolgathering' is an understatement.  I could have told you that Lord Taishakuten and Lord Vainamoinen had declared their undying passion for one another and petitioned you to change the kingdom's marriage laws, and you wouldn't have heard a word."

"Taishakuten and Vainamoinen—what?" Ashura asked, bewildered by the conversation's turn.

"See, this is what I mean."  Kendappa waved her fork at him.  "You aren't focused at all this morning.  If this is the result of just one good dream, I'd hate to see you after a whole week of nice dreams."

"Oh."  Ashura shrugged, and ate another bite of bread and cloudberry jam.

"Oh?  That's all you have to say?"

"You want me to be as grumpy as Fai was this morning?"

"At least you noticed that.  He was only grumpy because you were worrying him, you know."

"I was just smiling at him."

"And not hearing a word anyone addressed to you.  Was that all really just because of a nice dream?  It was a little disquieting."

Yes, it really was because of a nice dream.  But he couldn't tell Kendappa the truth about that, nor what it really meant for everyone.  He looked at her, and felt the accustomed sense of grief.  She would not be among those Fai would one day save.  Even without the extra confirmation from his latest prophetic dream, he had already foreseen her death.  As always, he hid his guilt from her, and attempted to mollify her with a different explanation.  "I had planned to talk to Suhail about Fai's D title today.  I was thinking about that, as well."

Instead of being appeased, she sat up straighter.  "Are you really going through with it?  You know he won't approve."

"No, I expect he'll sputter and fight me like an enraged boar.  Either that, or pretend to die on the spot of a heart attack."  Ashura chuckled at the dual images.  "I imagine the other court wizards will also be upset when they hear of it."

"You think it's funny?"

"I think it's of no account."  Ashura kept his voice firm.  "My decision is made."

She eyed him, and shook her head.  "Fai is far too young.  He's barely nine."

He's a lot older than you know, Ashura thought.  Fai had been imprisoned in Valeria's time-distorted prison pit long enough for the Valerian ruler to have everyone in his country killed.  Since the Valerian ruler appeared to have used mostly conventional means of killing—ordinary executions, military action, and the like—rather than magic, depopulating the entire country would have taken years.  The citizens had had time to request military help from neighboring kingdoms, so obviously the problem had gone on long enough for them to be driven to such a drastic tactic as volunteering to be invaded.  And then Fai had lived on, aging either very slowly or not at all in his timeless prison, beyond the country's destruction.

Even Fai didn't know how long he'd lived in that horrific situation.  For him, the passage of time had only been marked by the ever-increasing numbers of dead bodies that were dumped into the pit with him.  When that had stopped, he'd had no way to gauge the length of his imprisonment at all.

Who knew how old Fai really was?  There was a good chance that he was the oldest living person in all of Seresu, perhaps in the whole world.

Ashura reviewed Fai's behavior.  It was true that he might be ancient in chronological years, and often displayed a mental maturity far beyond his apparent physical age.  However, he still acted like a child in many ways, especially when he was annoyed.

Kendappa tried again, this time warning him, "This will add fuel to the old stories that Fai is your illegitimate son."

Ashura only shrugged.  "Those rumors have never really died.  People will believe what they want, no matter what I do."

"Everyone will say it's nepotism or favoritism."

"So they will," Ashura agreed.  "Let them.  It won't be the first time a king has bestowed honors on a favorite.  However, this is not an undeserved honor.  Fai's power more than qualifies him.  That, and his service to the country.  Just last week, he helped to clear an ice floe from the town's water supply."

"You shouldn't let him roam about the kingdom freely like that," she replied, instead of focusing on Fai's good deeds as Ashura had hoped.  "He's too independent.  It's dangerous."

Ashura knew all about Fai's independent streak and wandering ways.  He even encouraged them, knowing that someday Fai would journey much, much farther than Seresu.  Fai would need confidence and self-assurance to meet his difficult future.  He needed to become self-sufficient and adaptable enough to survive whatever peculiar or threatening conditions he might encounter in the many worlds to which he would one day venture.  Spending part of his youth ranging about the countryside would only help those qualities grow. 

It wasn't exactly the most conventional way to raise a royal child, but then Fai was not an ordinary prince.  His true destiny did not lie with Seresu.

Feeling the last remnants of his good mood slip away, Ashura dropped his bread on a plate and said, "No one in this country would dare to harm him.  In fact, he's endeared himself to all the classes a great deal."

Fai was well loved by the populace.  His sweet, diffident nature and natural kindheartedness assured that the commonfolk who met him also adored him.  The nobility, magicians, and priestly classes recognized his immense magical power and his privileged position in the royal hierarchy and in Ashura's life.  As such, they were not inclined to do anything to offend either the child or his guardian, the king.  But really, even most of them were fond of Fai simply for his own sake.

Ashura once again reassured himself that it should be safe enough to let his child roam.  Ashura reassured himself about that rather too often, but, in addition to teaching Fai independence and self-sufficiency, wandering around the country seemed to make Fai happy.  Above all, Ashura wanted Fai to be happy.

Nevertheless, despite his most recent dream, Ashura couldn't help but worry about his headstrong and oft-careless son.  His prophecies assured him that Fai would survive childhood—for the most part, at any rate.  Although there were alternate futures where Fai died early, they were weak and unlikely to occur without significant external pressures.  Or so Ashura believed.  He might be wrong about that, and he didn't like thinking about the consequences.  However, even if he were right, that didn't mean Fai couldn't get sick or injured in the process of growing up.

Ashura shrugged again, painfully aware that there was nothing to be done about that.  "Once he learned to teleport himself, who could ever stop him?  He would just sneak off were I to forbid him from traveling about."  He paused to reminisce about how he had done the exact same thing when he'd been young, especially with world-walking.  "Don't forget, no one in this world can match him, not even me."

Kendappa was silent for a moment.  They both knew that no other mage in all of Seresu could equal Fai's strength, nor his natural talent at translocation spells.  The child could already manage them much more quickly than Ashura had ever thought possible.  Ashura himself had to concentrate on the spell's runes and draw them out one by one before successfully teleporting.  But Fai could manifest the spell-runes almost instantly, and whisk himself to safety in a heartbeat.

Finally, she said, "Perhaps not, but he listens to you.  He loves you.  He always tries to please you.  If you asked him not to wander, he'd listen.  Ashura, he's just a child.  It isn't safe."  She touched his hand briefly.  "You know what's he's like.  One of these days, he's going to get into real trouble."

That was a serious concern, Ashura acknowledged.  So far, Fai had been fine, but he simply didn't take enough care for his own safety.  Even though the people wouldn't harm him, Fai often put himself into dangerous situations.  Ashura tried to counter any ill-effects of that tendency by sending along secret minders whenever possible, who were instructed to keep discreet watch on Fai, but otherwise conceal their presence from him.  As Kendappa had just stated, Fai was but a child, and a heedless one, at that.

"I have wizards follow and supervise him.  I don't know if he's ever noticed them, but if he has he doesn't protest or try to evade them."  Given some of the odd places Fai roamed and the indifferent way he just went where he willed, Ashura assumed Fai hadn't yet detected them. 

Kendappa rubbed her face.  "It's not the same.  Giving him the D title will only confirm in his mind that you approve of his behavior."

Since Ashura did approve of Fai's behavior—mostly—he couldn't argue with that.  He didn't even try.  "Kendappa, you know he's deserved this title since he first gained his wizard's staff.  Everyone knows it.  The only reason anyone will protest is because of his age."

She huffed in annoyance, unable to disagree.  "Perhaps it will instill some responsibility and caution in him," she allowed, although she did not look particularly hopeful.  "Very well, I will support you as far as that goes.  But you cannot make him a court wizard.  No one will accept that, no matter what arguments we make."

Ashura nodded.  While most court wizards did not hold the D title, all D-titled wizards were attached to the royal court and by tradition made court wizards.  But in this case, the tradition had to be circumvented.  "I agree.  I had planned to give him the position of Royal Wizard, instead.  That one is vague enough to suit my detractors, while still acknowledging the high honor of the D title and formally binding Fai to its civic responsibilities."

The title and position of Royal Wizard was awarded to wizards who served solely at the pleasure of the king.  It tied them to the court without the particular responsibilities and privileges of the court wizards.  It also could be awarded to the most powerful, non-ruling members of the royal family, as blood members of the Royal House of Vanir did not receive the D title, no matter their strengths or merits.  Often the office of Royal Wizard was purely honorary, providing a way for the king to ennoble or elevate a favorite magician.  While theoretically there was no limit to how many Royal Wizards a king could create, usually there were only one or two at any given time.  At present, no one held the title.

She nodded.  "Yes, that should satisfy."  Slyly, she added, "Of course, you don't have to award the D title to Fai if you give him that other one."

"Kendappa..."

She laughed.  "Yes, I know, when you make up your mind, it cannot be changed.  You are as stubborn as an old, senile mule."

"That was uncalled for," he said haughtily.

"It's the truth," she insisted.  "You've been this way since you were a child.  There's no help for it.  You've always been spoiled dreadfully."

He grinned at her.  "Of course.  I'm the king."


	4. Chapter 4

The Lord Wizard Suhail D Bhagat, chief of the court wizards, reacted to the news exactly as both Ashura and Kendappa had predicted.

He actually sputtered.

"You cannot be serious!" Suhail finally got out.  His entire countenance displayed utter disbelief, and his eyes practically bugged out from his face.

From behind his desk in his office of state, Ashura merely nodded at him.  "Of course I am," he said serenely.  He found the expression on his chief wizard's face priceless.  Suhail looked like he might fall over from the shock.  Ashura wondered if he should offer Suhail a chair.  To reinforce his authority, he had kept Suhail standing for this announcement, but now he worried a little that that decision might have been just a wee bit unwise.

"Lord Fai is still just a child," Suhail protested, pulling himself together.  "This is without precedent."

"True," Ashura said, and with a certain, mean-spirited amusement watched Suhail sputter again.  He drolly remembered his own childhood, when Suhail had been his tutor in magic, and how he had often gotten "too creative" with his spells and made Suhail sputter in much the same way.  How entertaining to know he could still reduce Suhail to fits of incoherence.

"Your Majesty," Suhail said, struggling to maintain his decorum, "to award a child the D title, the title of supreme magical ability and authority—it's unheard of.  Lord Fai is barely nine years old."

Ashura indulged in more amusement at the thought that Fai might very well be even older than Suhail.  What, Ashura wondered, would Suhail say to that little fact?  The chief wizard would probably sputter even more.  Either that, or expire on the spot of an apoplexy.

While it was an entertaining idea, the simple fact was that, physically, Fai was a healthy nine-year-old boy, and that was all anyone else saw.  Fai's spirit was much older, marked by his harsh early childhood, but no one other than Ashura and Fai knew the full truth of that.

And the reasons why.

Ashura's mirth fled, and he suppressed a shudder.  Although it had been two years since his trip to Valeria, he was still shaken by what he'd seen there, and a vision of the starved, abused child he had found rose in his mind's eye.  Something very similar would one day happen in Seresu, and Fai would again be traumatized by the very person he should have been able to trust the most.

Suhail hadn't noticed his king's distraction.  "Many will view this as nothing more than blatant favoritism, Majesty."

With effort, Ashura shook off his guilt-ridden thoughts.  "That would hardly be anything new," he pointed out.  Especially since it was true.  He did favor Fai, and was entirely unapologetic about it.  Kings had been engaging in nepotism and favoritism since the dawn of time.  Ashura didn't consider his own behavior to be particularly remarkable or noteworthy.

But the D title was different, and everyone knew it.

Of course, Ashura had known from the beginning what reactions his decision would provoke.  He hadn't needed Kendappa's warnings at breakfast.  He was well aware that his decision would not be popular with the magicians nor even with the non-magical members of the nobility.  He was breaking with a near-sacred tradition, and setting an uncomfortable precedent.

A number of court- and kingdom-level awards were given "at the king's pleasure," or, in blunter words, for no better reason than because the king felt like it.  That was the theory, at any rate.  In practice, historically, the king usually consulted with his advisors, and also with anyone else who might be affected.  That was particularly true for the meaningful awards, those that came with land grants, resource or financial rights, governmental power and responsibilities.

Many other honors were almost empty, and as such required little or no consultation with anyone.  Ashura had handed out his share of that type, and even made some up on occasion.  In general, they were just for show, and had nothing more behind them than the "thanks and regard of king and country."  Those sorts of awards were meant to pacify a nobility that could sometimes get a bit tempestuous.

The wizards' D title fell into the first category, that of meaningful awards.  It was among the most valued in the land, the highest magical honor any mage, whether noble or common-born, could aspire to.  It was one of the few where birth status didn't matter.  Its bestowal was limited only by a magician's own capabilities:  his power, skill, knowledge, and service.  In fact, usually the court wizards recommended candidates to the king.

Small wonder they were a tad defensive and proprietary about it.  The D title was unique to the magical-folk, and therefore cherished, protected, and valued above all other earthly honors.

Ashura conceded that, all things considered, Suhail's protests were hardly unreasonable.

Suhail tried again, "The title is given for—"

"The title is awarded for a variety of reasons," Ashura finished for him.  "Service, innovation, knowledge, skill, power...especially power.  Fai is the single most powerful magician in this entire world.  There can be no question of that."

"No one disputes Lord Fai's power," Suhail allowed.  "Nor his natural abilities as a magician.  I always knew he would be awarded the title one day.  But he is still training, and he is just a child.  He doesn't have the breadth of knowledge—"

"He deserves the title for power alone," Ashura said haughtily.  He had a height advantage over Suhail, and now used it by standing up, his bearing regally imposing and as rigid as an iron spear.  "He's stronger than all the court wizards combined.  That is more than enough to justify the award."  He unhappily recalled how all the court wizards together had barely been able to subdue him when he had once been captive to a horrific prophetic dream and his power had run out of control.  Fai was much, much stronger than he was.

Ashura continued, "However, he has also proven his skill and worth through his service to the kingdom.  He often provides assistance to the people of this country."

Suhail grudgingly acknowledged that with a grunt and a curt nod.

Ashura pressed, "Admit it, no one would complain at all if he were an adult."

Suhail ground his teeth, but forced another nod.  "Yes, that's true."

"Very well, then.  There is no more need for discussion," Ashura decreed.  "I will leave it to you to inform the court wizards of my decision."

Suhail made a strange noise, like a cross between a growl, a choke, and a whimper.  His face scrunched up in an indescribable expression.

Ashura thought his old magic teacher could use a nice cup of chamomile tea right about now.  He took pity on Suhail, and said, "Would you rather I called a meeting with them to make the announcement?"  And truly, it would be nothing more than an announcement.  Ashura was already weary of arguments that could only have one outcome, even though he knew the rest of his court wizards would be as disagreeable on this subject as Suhail.

Suhail said weakly, "Thank you, Your Majesty.  I would, indeed, prefer that."

Ashura offered another spoonful of honey to his unhappy wizard.  "I have already had this discussion with Kendappa.  She pointed out that the court wizards will not accept a child into their ranks."  It amused him that she had predicted the direction of this conversation so accurately, but that was the way of things with Kendappa.  "I have agreed that Fai shall not be made a court wizard.  That should be of some consolation to all of you."

"But the D title must be tied to the court at Luval—"

"Fai is to be made Royal Wizard, instead.  Will that suit the court wizards?"

Suhail nodded and gave a relieved bow.  "I believe it will suit them quite well, my king."

"After the most concerned parties are all made aware, I will have the decision posted throughout the kingdom, and set a date for the ceremony."

"Have you told Lord Fai of this?" Suhail dared to ask.

In fact, Ashura hadn't informed Fai, nor even asked his opinion.  He had been concerned about the resistance from the royal council and court wizards, and had wanted the paths all smoothed before he gave Fai the news.  Now, for the first time, he wondered how Fai would react.

Most wizards would be ecstatic, but Fai's reactions could be unpredictable.  Even after two years, Fai's emotions were sometimes unstable.  Not often anymore, but on rare occasions he could still throw impressive tantrums or descend into darkness and gloom.  Fortunately, the child had learned excellent control over his magic, and neither his fits of rage nor his hopeless depressions resulted in damage or injuries.

Ashura didn't believe that Fai would squall about being awarded a prestigious honor which he clearly deserved.  But he didn't know how Fai would feel about a title that would put him even more in the public eye.  Although Fai was Ashura's ward and a full citizen of Seresu, he was also a foreign prince who had come into Ashura's care under suspicious, disturbing circumstances—at least to the eyes of the court.  Fai already endured his share of gossip and observation, and there were lewd whispers concerning his origins.  Few believed the truth, or even cared about it.  The speculation that Fai was really Ashura's illegitimate son was much more entertaining to the gossipmongers.  As Kendappa had warned, the stories would surely be enlivened by the bestowal of the D title.

Still, Ashura was determined.  Fai was the most powerful and important wizard in all of Seresu, and Ashura wanted that officially and formally acknowledged.  Not just for the good deeds Fai had already done, but for the services he would one day render.  The services that would salvage a small part of the country, and allow some of the Seresian people to continue in a new world.  For everything Fai already was, for everything he would become, he deserved the D title.

"Majesty?"  Suhail's voice broke through Ashura's brooding.

Ashura gave himself a tiny shake.  Despite its relevance, he opted to ignore Suhail's earlier question about Fai.  There was no point in adding fuel to Suhail's irritation.  Besides, it was none of his business.  Kings often bestowed honors—and extra duties—without asking the opinions or desires of the recipients.

"I believe we are done here," he said.  He sat back down again.  "You may return to your regular duties, Lord Wizard."

Suhail scowled at the abrupt dismissal, but bowed.  "Yes, Your Majesty."  He exited the office.

An instant after the door closed, Ashura gasped at the pulse of raw power that slammed into him.  Fai's power.  The child had teleported himself out of the castle.

The sensation was mercifully brief.  Normally, the backlash from Fai's power wasn't so strong.  Fai must have been sloppy when he cast that spell, and let his control slip.

Most of the time, Ashura felt Fai's magic as a glowing warmth.  Sometimes it seemed a soft whisper, like a gentle breeze.  And at rare times—like now—it felt like a blow to the gut.  But it was never absent:  Ashura always knew Fai's magic.  He always felt it in the back of his mind, and the deepest recesses of his soul.

Over the past two years, as Fai's power had grown, Ashura's awareness of it had also grown.  Fai's control was such that he could hide his exercise of power from everyone but Ashura, who sometimes experienced it in quite an overpowering manner.  Ashura wondered why that was, why he felt Fai's power directly like that, even when Fai was hiding it.  He hadn't at first, not without actively seeking Fai, but over time his sensitivity to Fai's magic had gotten stronger and stronger.  He assumed it was due to some odd quirk of the Witch of Dimensions' empyreal magic and the blood-soaked thread of fate that connected him and Fai.  His life did, after all, belong to Fai.

Fai had been able to sense Ashura's magic from the first time they had met.  Ashura supposed that it had been inevitable that the reverse should also be true, although he didn't believe Fai ever found the experience startling or overwhelming, the way Ashura sometimes did.  Fai had always seemed to consider it a comfort.  But then, Fai's own power dwarfed Ashura's.  No spell Ashura cast would ever trouble Fai in that way.

Ashura took a few moments to recover, while staring blankly at the closed door.  He had never told anyone about the way he experienced Fai's power, nor the near physical impact it could sometimes have on him.  He had deliberately kept that information from Fai.  The poor child would only feel guilty and make himself sick over it.  And there was no point.  Really, it was a blessing.  Using that link, he could always find Fai anywhere, even in another world, so if Fai were hurt or in other trouble, Ashura could easily go to him.

But at present there was no need for any such drastic measures.  Just the usual, routine precautions.  With a sigh, Ashura summoned the wizards who served as Fai's incognito guardians when the child went wandering.


	5. Chapter 5

Ashura spent a week politicking to smooth Fai's way to the D title.  He met with the court wizards, who put up less of a fuss than he had expected.  He assumed that Suhail, despite his misgivings, had already warned them that any disagreement would be fruitless.

It was the Council of Nobles who argued the loudest, especially those members who weren't magicians themselves.  That was both surprising and irritating.  Ashura hadn't quite realized how vested they were in the status quo, or how displeased they were about its disruption.  They also vocalized their worry about a child holding the title of the supreme magician, and the political power that came with that title.

In response, Ashura pointed out that Fai was the most powerful wizard in the land, and that throughout recorded history, the title had often been awarded for power alone.  He again spoke of Fai's services to the country.  The councilors quieted, looking thoughtful.  Ashura took advantage of their hesitation, and presented an analogy based on landed titles.  Seresu's nobility was accustomed to young children holding high titles, due to the inheritance laws and customs.  All it took was the early death of one or both parents.  Until such children reached maturity, they always had adult guardians who actually wielded the power and governed the lands.

Ashura's nephew and heir, Tancred, was in such a position.  The boy had inherited his father's lands and titles, as his mother had no birth right to them.  Technically, Tancred was the master of those properties.  In reality, Ashura handled all matters of governance and business on behalf of his teenaged nephew.

Additionally, Ashura had bestowed several large and valuable estates upon Fai.  And, as Fai was also underage, Ashura managed those estates for him.

The councilors nodded when reminded of those facts.

Ashura informed them that Fai would not become a court wizard, but was to be made Royal Wizard, and as such would serve solely at the command of the king.  Then he let the noble councilors draw their own conclusions.

It was easy enough to predict their response.  All of them recalled the old rumors that Fai was Ashura's illegitimate child, and assumed Ashura was indulging in a rather high-handed bit of nepotism.  They naturally believed that Ashura, as Fai's guardian and presumed father, would be the real agent behind any action Fai undertook.  The noble councilors were dead wrong, and Ashura felt not one tiny twinge of guilt at leading them down the garden path to all those false conclusions.

He didn't want them to put up any obstacles.  He could have simply overruled everyone and issued a royal proclamation, but he preferred willing acquiescence in this matter, and if misleading them achieved his purpose, so be it.  Their voluntary assent would make things simpler and easier for Fai.

The councilors weren't particularly happy about the way Ashura was trampling the country's magical traditions, but they grudgingly accepted that Fai would be granted the highest honor a wizard could achieve.  Even the loudest complainers merely grumbled that Ashura was overstepping himself.  Since that was a common accusation leveled at all kings, Ashura paid it little heed.  Besides, he heard it whenever he did something new or unusual.

Disgruntled rumors that Fai had only been elevated due to Ashura's favoritism would circulate—that was inevitable—but Fai would prove them wrong in no time.  Goodness, Ashura thought, Fai had already proven them wrong many times, with every act of kindness and magical help he bestowed upon the people of his adopted country.  And really, a magician whose first magical act in Seresu had been nearly crashing Luval Castle out of the sky was unquestionably _the_ supreme wizard in all the land, no matter his age.

But Ashura wasn't about to remind anyone of that near-catastrophe from two years ago.  It might destroy all the groundwork he had just laid.

With his council reasonably pacified, Ashura finally went to speak with Fai.  He thought it a shame that Fai was not the first to hear of his coming honor, but it was important to get the council and court wizards' agreement, lest Fai be burdened with political pressures and official disapprovals that he was yet too young to bear or even understand.  Now, Fai would merely have to tolerate court gossip, which would be nothing new for him.

He found Fai beneath the floating mountain, in the walled area where the horses were stabled.  Fai was feeding his favorite mount an apple, and petting its glossy neck.  The beast whinnied softly.  Ashura smiled in quiet pleasure at sight.  Fai had taken to horsemanship superbly, as he took to so many physical, intellectual, and magical activities.  He possessed excellent dexterity and strength despite his slight build, which was complimented by a sharp, adept mind.

Ashura hated to disturb the gentle scene.  Nonetheless, he spoke, "Fai."

The child looked over at him.  Although, as always, there was no trace of a smile on his face, somehow his countenance brightened.  "King Ashura!" he said.  "What are you doing here in the stables?"

"I'm allowed to visit my own stables," Ashura replied.  He came over to Fai and the horse, and rubbed the animal's velvety muzzle.  "Fai, I would like to talk to you in private."

"Oh."  Fai appeared curious, but unworried.  "Where should we go?"

Ashura didn't feel like going back to the castle yet.  He quirked a crooked smile.  "Why don't we go into the Silvalfar Forest.  I know a place with a nice stream that's very pretty.  It also has the advantage of being quite secluded."

"Are we hiding from the guards again?"  Fai looked disapproving.  "You know they don't like you to go off by yourself."

Ashura found Fai's stern censure highly diverting, especially in light of the fact that Fai often ventured out of the castle unaccompanied.  Or so the boy believed, at any rate.  Ashura wondered if he was to blame for Fai's habit of wandering, if perhaps Fai was following his own bad example.  "We will be fine.  I hope this conversation will be brief.  No one will even know we are gone."

"You've been acting strange all week."

"And I will explain why.  Now, come with me."  Ashura held out his hand, and though Fai frowned at being treated like a child, he took it.  Then Ashura drew out his runes and teleported them both to a lovely little spot in the forest outside Luval Town.  The stream was small, but its waters were crystal clear.  It gurgled pleasantly despite being partially covered in ice.  The birch trees around it were thinner than in the rest of the forest, and let in dappled sunlight that glittered on the snowy ground and the frost-rimed branches.  The papery white bark gleamed, and a few birds chattered.

Ashura wrapped his furred cloak about himself and took a deep breath of the cold, crisp air.  "Yes, this place is appropriate," he said absently, relishing the chill and the scent of the snow, earth, and trees of his country.  The Silvalfar Forest exemplified much that he loved about Seresu.

Fai, however, asked, "Appropriate for what?  What did you want to talk about?"

Ashura smiled down at him.  "I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?"

"A nice one, I hope."

"What is it?" Fai asked, with a look of anticipation.

Ashura smiled more broadly.  "Fai, you are to receive the D title of Seresu's wizards."

Fai's eyes grew impossibly wide, and his mouth hung open.  An indescribable expression of amazement and delight stole over his young features.  "Oh.  Oh, wow.  Really?  Me?"

"Yes, Fai.  The court wizards and council have all agreed," Ashura added, stretching the truth a wee bit.  Well, they hadn't disagreed, but then, he hadn't given them that option.

"Oh, wow," Fai said again.  "That's the highest honor for wizards.  It means a wizard is better than all the others.  It's for me?  Really?"

Ashura decided that he needn't have worried before that Fai might react badly to the news.  All young, nobly born boys had inflated opinions of what they deserved.  They often fantasized about receiving accolades and awards for great feats, however nebulous those feats were in their imaginations.  Ashura had done so himself in his own youth.  Perhaps Fai had also indulged in such dreams, despite his continuing self-esteem issues.

Fai chewed on his lower lip.  "Don't D-titled wizards have to become court wizards?  Will I have to spend all my time with them now?"  Clearly, that idea daunted him, and little wonder.  Ashura doubted any child would want to be stuck all day long with that particular group of wizards.  Few adults would find the company felicitous, let alone a young boy.

"Fai, it has already been decided that you will not be required to join the order of court wizards," Ashura told him.  "Instead, you will be made Royal Wizard."

"What does a Royal Wizard do?"

"That worthy individual serves the king."

"So I'll have to do whatever you tell me to do?"

"Yes," Ashura confirmed.

Fai scowled.  "I already have to do that.  Things won't be any different."

"That's right."  Ashura ruffled his hair.  "So what it really means is that you will continue your studies, practice arms, horsemanship, and magic, and in general carry on much as you have been for the last two years."

"Huh."  Fai frowned harder, thinking about that.  "You'll still make me take math lessons."

Ashura almost laughed aloud.  After two years, Fai still didn't appreciate the study of numbers.  "Yes, that's true."

The child spent a full minute grumbling at the dirty trick Ashura had served him.  Then he stopped, his mien becoming thoughtful.  That expression morphed into dismay.  He looked up suddenly.

"Why?" Fai asked, and his voice held a tiny quaver.  "Why?"

Ashura felt a frisson of alarm at this abrupt emotional shift, but he kept it hidden.  "What do you mean, why?"

"Why me?  What did I do to make people think I deserved the D title?"  He gave Ashura a suspicious look.  "Did the others really agree, or did you make them?  Is this just something you're giving me because you want to?  Did I really earn it?"

Ashura then realized that he had rejoiced too soon.  While it was true that he did want Fai to have this title, Fai also needed to know that he was worthy.  More, he needed to _believe_ it in his heart, but that goal might be out of reach for now.  "Fai, you are the most powerful wizard in all the world.  You have already performed many services for this country.  You are an amazing prodigy at magic, and memorize new spells more quickly than any other mage.  You are exceptional in every way.  What more is needed?  This title is reserved for the most outstanding wizards, those who are powerful, skilled, and of great service to Seresu.  You more than qualify for it.  In my opinion, it is long overdue."

Fai became quiet, staring down at the ground, absorbing all that.  Ashura started worrying that maybe he was rushing too fast, that maybe it would be better if Fai did not receive this title.  He was only a child, as everyone had kept telling Ashura.  The D title was too much of a burden for Fai while he was so young.  It wasn't too late to backtrack.  No one would object if Ashura announced that he had changed his mind.  The court wizards and councilors would probably cheer, although they might make a few snide comments among themselves about their king's flightiness.

"Do you not wish this title, Fai?" Ashura asked uncertainly.  "I can—"

"No!" Fai shouted.  He looked startled, and covered his mouth with his hands.  "Oh, no, I didn't mean to yell at you.  I'm sorry."

"It's all right, Fai.  Just tell me what you desire."

"Do you really believe I deserve the D title?  Really?" Fai asked earnestly.  There was something in his eyes Ashura couldn't quite identify, some kind of hunger.  "Really and truly?"

"Yes, Fai, I do," Ashura confirmed.  "No one is more deserving."  He meant that with his whole heart.

Fai went silent for a moment, staring intently into Ashura's eyes as though searching, seeking into Ashura's very soul.  Ashura started worrying again.  Not just because he was concerned about his son's reactions, but because he had experienced that same unnerving gaze before, from the Witch of Dimensions two years ago.  She truly had delved into his heart and soul.  It was unsettling to face that daunting look once more, this time from his own child.

Then Fai blinked and nodded, as if he had gleaned his answer from Ashura through that focused, disconcerting stare.

Perhaps he had.

He said, "Okay."  His posture became very erect, and he actually looked taller.  With all the dignity an impossibly serious nine-year-old could muster, he went down on one knee in the snow.  "I am humbled by this great honor, Your Most Gracious Majesty, and I accept with gratitude, loyalty, and love," he said, perfectly mimicking the acceptances other noblemen made when receiving accolades at Ashura's court.  His childish voice and body were greatly at odds with the formality of his words and posture, and Ashura was hard-pressed to keep himself from smiling.  Fai would certainly not take that well at all.

Ashura wondered again if Fai had been fantasizing about receiving court honors and practicing in his mind how he would accept—if not for this title, then for some other award.

"Rise, my liegeman, and take up your new duties," Ashura replied just as formally, but was unable to prevent a trace of playfulness from creeping into his tone.  Fai didn't appear to notice, at least.  Ashura reached out, took hold of Fai's shoulders, and lifted him to his feet.

As Fai stood, his whole being seemed suffused with delight and joy.  Ashura kept his arms on Fai's shoulders and studied Fai's expression, while trying not to appear as if he were examining Fai too closely.  There was still no discernible smile on that round, childish face, not yet, but perhaps, just perhaps, the day when he would see Fai's smile was drawing closer.

Ashura said, "The investiture ceremony will be held when the moon's crescent waxes bright."  At present, the moon was dark, but would soon show a slender, waxing crescent.  Ashura hoped the nice weather would hold.  He wanted that moon visible in the sky, illuminating the country when Fai received the highest honor a Seresian king could bestow on a wizard.  A waxing crescent would be particularly auspicious, with promises of growth, wealth, luck, and all things constructive and good.  All magicians knew well the phases of the moon, along with their mystical and symbolic uses.

"That's pretty soon," Fai said.

"The sooner, the better," Ashura replied.  He didn't want to give anyone time to think of more objections.  His fingers twitched on Fai's shoulders, and he went down on his knees.  "Fai, would you be too embarrassed for a hug today?  No one will see in this place."  Since Fai had squirmed out of a hug at breakfast a week ago, Ashura had been careful to avoid publicly embarrassing him.

Fai demonstrated that he was not too old for hugs, at least when in private.  He wrapped his arms around Ashura's shoulders and squeezed.  "Thank you for thinking I'm deserving of...of..." he whispered, unable to finish.  He sniffled.

Ashura hugged him tightly, blinking moisture from his own eyes.  "You are deserving of so much, much more," he reassured the child, desperately hoping that Fai would one day think better of himself.  "You are more worthy than a thousand court wizards."

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

The good weather held for Fai's investiture ceremony, and was everything Ashura had hoped.  The sun set early in the closing months of autumn, and so even though it was only late afternoon, it was almost full dark.  Dim magelights were set at intervals along the ground, their soft, misty glow making the lowest branches of frost-covered trees and brush glisten.  The magical spheres provided enough light to see by, but were positioned so they would not interfere with the view of the night.  The cold sky was crystal clear, with thousands of stars glittering like jewels strewn across black velvet.  The moon was a slim crescent only just rising above the trees and mountains.

It was waxing, that lunar phase which promised increase, fulfillment, and good fortune.

Fai loved the moon in all its phases.  He always remarked upon it when they studied the night sky and it was present.  He knew all its lore, and even claimed to see a rabbit in its silvery features.

Ashura had never seen anything in the moon, and had no desire to witness any imagery there.  In recent years he had come to dread the sight of the moon.

He associated it with the Witch of Dimensions, and everything terrible that his visit to her had forced him to accept.  She had granted him his deepest wish and his greatest fear; she had given him Fai, and in so doing had cemented the destruction of his kingdom, and likely even condemned his entire world.  He both loved and hated her, and because of that also loved and hated the moon.  Her abode had been decorated with crescent moons, so many crescent moons.  And butterflies, the symbol of happiness and of transformation, and also of death, and the manifestations of the soul.  The moon and the butterfly both seemed to be associated with her, and both felt ominous to him.

Did the moon rule her, as it ruled him?  Was she coming into her own, or diminishing and fading from existence as he was?  Had those crescent moons been waxing or waning?  He couldn't recall.  Much of his frantic journey to her now felt like a bizarre dream, but then his dreams often were more real to him than reality.  The images of her home might be hazy, yet her grave voice and her fathomless, soul-devouring eyes remained vivid in his memory.  Dreams often displayed that peculiar dichotomy of vagueness and cut-glass clarity.  Perhaps she lived in a dream.

The moon also reminded him of that strange young princess, Tomoyo, whom he had once met in a dream.  Her clothing and jewels had been decorated with crescent moons, waxing and waning.  The mirror on her chest had seemed to him to represent the full moon, the true meaning of the crescents, the power that kept them joined.  Ashura had gotten the sense that the pairs of moons had been symbolic of balance.  The waning moons on her person had been mirrors of those waxing, and so the whole reflected not despair, but harmony and stability.

She had promised him that he would come to accept the approaching calamity for Seresu.  And so he did, grudgingly and bitterly.  Ashura always felt a frisson of resentment towards her whenever he thought of her.  Her country had hope, should Fai and his future friends succeed in their preordained task.  His country had none, none at all, no matter what events transpired, no matter the ultimate outcome.  Whether the future turned good or ill for the rest of the universe, Seresu would die.  There was no possible respite.  Seresu's doom had been ordained from the very beginning.

There could be no escape from the moon's influence.  Even Fai's wizard's staff was ornamented with a crescent moon.  It rested at the base of the fluorite focus stone, a unique stone chosen especially for him, one that could channel his immense magic without breaking.  The crescent moon supported that special crystal, its lunar points turned upwards as though embracing the fluorite.  There was no way to determine if the crescent was waxing or waning.  Perhaps that was a hopeful sign.  Perhaps that meant Fai's ultimate fate was not yet decided, perhaps Fai's life or death could still be affected.  Ashura hoped it meant that Fai need not remain aligned with the dark sorcerer who planned the death of all things, that sorcerer who had made false promises in exchange for Fai's servitude.

Perhaps that sign, that ambivalent crescent moon, meant that Fai's life could go however he chose.  Such a moon could tilt in either direction.  Perhaps Ashura's wish that Fai would one day be free could truly come to pass.

Ashura himself felt no affinity for the moon.  In his dreams, it was either waning or completely dark, symbols of decrease, of loss, of the passing of all things, and of the bleak future for his country and world.  And now, whenever he chanced to look into the night sky, even while awake, the moon seemed to always be either waning or dark.  It mattered not whether he viewed it in dreams or in reality.

Tonight was different, but that was only because this night had been chosen deliberately for the auspicious lunar phase.  The D title was only ever bestowed during a waxing moon, for the optimism and the promise of growth that was inherent in its symbolism.

The moon rose higher, clearing the mountains, bright against the gemlike stars.  The site for Fai's investiture was the same ceremonial clearing in the Silvalfar Forest that was used for the King's Sacrifice, that Sunbirth ceremony meant to bless the land with the king's blood.  With mingled foreboding and hope, Ashura gazed at the sacred altar in the center of the clearing.  A jumbled heap of old, gray stones, it glowed balefully in the cold moonlight.  The area around it had been swept free of snow and ice, so that bare earth showed.  He had come to hate this place, and yet he was mystically and inextricably bound to it by his own blood.

Normally, at the King's Sacrifice, Ashura would cut himself and allow a few drops of his blood to feed the land, in a ceremony whose true purpose had long been forgotten:  it originally had rejoiced in the rebirth of the Land at springtime, by honoring the killing of the people by the king, and the killing of the mad king by the survivors.  How sad, how perverse, that it was the very place where Fai would unwittingly accept the obligation to kill him.

The sacred site was always used to bestow the D title on a wizard, although it had not been utilized for such a purpose in many years.  The location was ironic, though Ashura had never realized the irony before he had learned the truth about his family line's curse and blessing, the Divine Spear of Madness, and the truth about the D title's origins.

The D title had originally been given to the strongest wizards in the country because they were the most capable of stopping—and killing—a blood-maddened king under the influence of the Divine Spear.

A king born to fulfill the Divine Spear of Madness was condemned to claim magical power by killing his own subjects, and then use that power to battle some future menace to the country.  The madness, like the curse of prophetic dreams, was an innate part of the Royal House of Vanir; both were normally held in check by ancient spells and blood seals.  A Sacral King was born with the prophetic ability unsealed, as Ashura had been.  When the present and future collided at the proper time, the king's inborn, murderous nature would be released.  The future threat to Seresu was the trigger, and the Sacral King was condemned, even before his birth, by an event that wouldn't come to fruition for many long decades.

According to the ancient, secret records, the threat that triggered the Divine Spear of Madness had always been some magical enemy, usually a race of supernatural beings which threatened Seresu's very existence.  In Ashura's case, the combination of Fai's second, world-devouring curse and his own future depredations would manifest the Divine Spear.  The mere existence of Fai's second curse had triggered the Divine Spear, and Ashura would murder his entire country in a driven but futile quest for enough power to defeat that curse, becoming part of the threat that he had been born to subdue.

There was bitterness mingled with unrealistic hope at awarding Fai the D title.  Ashura was bestowing it to honor and elevate Fai, and also to designate his own future executioner.  He wanted Fai to kill him, as the ancient D-titled wizards of prehistory had been obligated to do.  It would not save Seresu, though.  By then, Seresu would be devastated, its people all murdered or fled.  Ashura's only goal was to free Fai from his two curses, those sadistic curses bestowed by the twisted sorcerer whose schemes would destroy the universe.  By the sick, unalterable terms of his second curse, Fai's only path to life and freedom was to kill his foster father.  By murdering his own people and stealing their power, Ashura hoped to surpass Fai in terms of raw magic, thereby triggering the first curse that would force Fai to perform that terrible, necessary act.

The true purpose of the D title had been lost in antiquity.  No official records spoke of it at all.  The only source of its history was a secret repository of ancient knowledge that only Ashura could access.  None but he knew the monstrous truth, or so he believed.  He did sometimes wonder if the Völur knew, as well.  If so, they kept their own counsel well, and did not betray even a hint of that forbidden knowledge.

In any case, now the D title was simply the highest honor possible for any wizard of Seresu.

Ashura pulled his warm, furred cloak tighter about him.  The clearing was full of magicians, all watching him, all waiting with scarce-concealed anticipation for the rite to commence.  Only magicians ever attended this ceremony.  From the highest and most learned wizards to the lowliest of hedge-witches, all who could make the proper arrangements and travel the distance had come.  The intent was for the mage-folk to witness and acknowledge the elevation of the highest of their peers.  The rituals were steeped in ancient symbolism that all appreciated.  The mages basked in the aura of such ceremonies, yet no one save Ashura really understood what the rites truly meant.

Most of the witnesses came from Luval Castle and the town, as they were the closest locations.  Naturally, all the court wizards were present.  The four most prominent, those who bore the D title, stood nearest to Ashura:  Suhail D Bhagat, Ashant D Sharma, Nilima D Tyagi, and Syed D Greenstone.  Each carried his or her staff of power.  To one side of the D-titled wizards stood the rest of the royal family:  Ashura's cousin, Kendappa; his sister by marriage Sybilla, and her children, Tancred, Virender, and Mielu.

Due to the short notice for the ceremony, only the most powerful magicians from remote locales—those who could teleport themselves—were in attendance.  Ashura recognized a few of them:  Taishakuten's primary war wizard, Master Ateas from the Southlands; Lady Louhi of Pohjola; Maunu Silversong; Jari the Spearbreaker.

Many Völur had come, despite their aversion to the royal court and its functions.  Ashura again wondered exactly how much they knew of the truth, and kept secret from him.

Ashura glanced about, surreptitiously studying the faces of the attendees, gauging their mood.  There was no trace of resentment toward Fai that Ashura could detect.  He had been concerned that some might harbor ill will, despite his efforts to smooth Fai's path to the D title.  However, all present seemed filled with anticipation.  It had been many years since the last wizard had been so elevated.  This was the first time many had had the opportunity to view the ceremony.

It wasn't the largest possible assemblage of mage-folk, but the numbers were more than adequate, and many in the congregation were of high esteem.  Fai's investiture would be well witnessed and unimpeachable.  Fai's title, powers, and reputation would never be tarnished with questions about any impropriety in the proceedings.

The moon rose higher.  It was time to begin.  Ashura moved to a position before the rough stone altar.  A surreal hush fell over the surroundings and every eye sharpened upon him.  He raised his arms skyward, and recited the opening words of the ceremony:  "Come those that come will, leave those that leave will, stay those that stay will.  Clear thy thoughts of malice and dissent, and fill thine hearts with joy.  This place is holy."  Aided by magic, his voice resounded throughout the trees, up to the mountains, echoing and dying away.  "Come forth, Child of the Moon and Stars, scion of magic, he who is most blessed by ice and earth and celestial sky, by snow and burning fire, by bright power and brighter knowledge, by life and by blood."  Ashura lowered his arms and waited.  The circle of mages parted.

Resplendent in thick, luxurious furs, velvet and silken robes made stiff with lavish gold embroidery, and a rainbow of shimmering, precious gems, Fai entered the clearing.  He carried his golden, bejeweled wizard's staff, a staff that was still much too large and tall for him, both physically and symbolically.  It glimmered softly in the magelight and moonlight.

That staff had troubled Ashura since he had first laid eyes on it.  Not just its ambiguous crescent moon, but also the partially folded wings struck an ominous chord.  He found those elements impossible to miss, yet he hoped that Fai never recognized the symbolism inherent in his staff, the staff that Fai's own power and potential had manifested.

Would the ambiguity of the crescent moon turn to loss, so that Fai lived his whole life only half-furled, restrained and unfulfilled, as the wings of his staff suggested?  Was he forever chained to a demon-sorcerer's lies and empty promises?  Would poor Fai ever leave his past behind, spread his wings, and fly free, or would his soul remain forever caged?

Ashura gazed at the staff, keeping the gloom in his heart from his face and marring Fai's pleasure.  Ashura feared and believed those wings represented not only the potential for an incomplete, half-lived life, bound to a monster's will, but also his own manipulations.  He wanted to free Fai, but that very purpose meant that one day he, too, would bind Fai:  he would strangle the growth of Fai's natural power to further that goal.  Every time he looked at Fai's staff, those clipped wings reminded him anew of his own despicable plans.

Fai looked so small and young, far too young for his burdens.  Ashura felt a stab of remorse so strong he thought it might split him in two.  He wanted to sweep up his child and carry him away—away from Seresu, away from the world, away from all the regrets and horrors to come.  Away from what this title really meant for them both.

He stayed still, and smiled gently as Fai came forward.  The boy tried to keep his face calm and quiet, but his darting eyes betrayed his excitement.  Fai's gem-bedecked raiment rustled and glittered with every step, casting sparkles of light that mirrored the brilliant stars overhead.  He handed his staff to an attendant, and knelt before the king.

Fai bowed his blond head, then looked up with expectation.  Even in the silvery moonlight, Fai's eyes were blue, blue as a clear summer sky.  Ashura's gaze flicked from the ambiguous crescent on Fai's jeweled staff to the waxing crescent in the heavens, and he offered a silent prayer to whatever gods would listen that his child's future might follow the auspicious moon, that Fai's life be bright and long.

Then he began to intone the chants of the ancient ceremony.

He knew Fai didn't understand more than a few words.  Most present did not comprehend any of it.  The Old Tongue of Seresu was all but lost.  Only the most educated members of society ever learned it.  Fai was, in fact, studying it, but his knowledge was still rudimentary.  This ceremony used the most formal and flowery phrases possible in that age-old, venerable language, and so would be near incomprehensible to any but the most fluent.

Then Ashura switched to a formal variant of modern speech, and led Fai through the ritual responses, the obligations and vows.  Fai had been briefed on what to expect.  His eyes were wide, but his voice was strong and confident.  He looked so proud, but also nervous, and Ashura was struck with a desire to hug him and whisper reassurances.

Hardly appropriate, given the solemnity of the occasion.

At last, Ashura bent down and cradled Fai's gloved hands between his own.  He broke with tradition to give Fai a quick, inconspicuous wink, then spoke:  "Though the road be dark, the valleys deep and the mountains high, thou shalt find and light the way.  Not even the gods and demons of the Nine Realms can bar thy path.  Knowest that thou art the leader and the seeker; the student and the teacher; the warrior and the peacemaker.  No matter the cost, through all pain and all joy, thy deeds and intentions must always be of unquestioned and unquestionable purity.  Thou art elevated above all others, the highest of wizards.  Never forget that thy life is no longer thine own, but belongs fully to the Holy Land of Seresu itself.  That is the burden and the privilege of the Wizard of Wizards."

Ashura paused to take a deep breath, and administered the final, irrevocable vow:  "Dost thou now swear, before all witnesses present, thy peers, those who will judge thee and rely upon thee, to be true and loyal to thy king, to thy fellows, and to thy very soul, and to do naught but that which benefits the Land and People of Holy Seresu, even unto thine own death?"

"I do so swear," Fai said, and his young voice rang as clear as the pealing of a silver bell.

Now they came to the part most likely to disturb Fai, the part where the Wizard was marked with the King's Blood as a visible binding of the Wizard to the King and the Land.  Many of the religious and mystical rites of Seresu required a small blood token, although there were only two rituals—this one and the King's Sacrifice—in which the king's blood was mandated.  Almost all such tokens, royal or otherwise, were intended to be purely symbolic.  Unfortunately, a few sometimes did result in magical effects, like the King's Sacrifice at Sunbirth had during the year Fai had first arrived in Seresu.  That it had not happened since didn't matter.  The potential was always there.

On top of that worry, Fai hated seeing his foster father bleed.  Worse, he despised _himself_ whenever he was the cause of it, however inadvertently.  He would always apologize to excess if he drew Ashura's blood, even on occasions when some blood was expected, such as during simple sparring sessions with weapons, or just ordinary hand-to-hand practice.  His horrifying past made him fear losing those he loved, and the mere sight of a few drops of Ashura's blood always upset him. 

Because of that particular neurosis, as well as the potential for magical mishaps, Ashura had considered leaving the blood-binding out.  However, he had already ruffled enough feathers just by pushing his agenda and Fai's interests.  Tampering with a ritual that the mages considered sacred would not help matters.  So instead, he had thoroughly explained the ceremony to Fai, and he had taken especial care to detail every aspect of that part.  While Fai had frowned unhappily, he had seemed to accept the idea calmly enough.  Whether that equanimity was real or merely a false front, Ashura neither knew nor cared.  He only hoped that it would hold long enough for the ceremony to complete with no untoward incidents.

Two ritual attendants, a man and a woman, both wizards who were related to favored members of Ashura's court, moved forward to flank the king.  In silence, Ashura peeled off one of his kid gloves, passed it to the man, and held out an imperious hand.  The woman placed a small, sharp, obsidian knife in it.  Both attendants bowed and backed away, leaving Ashura and Fai alone by the altar.

Fai looked uncomfortable.  Ashura held Fai's gaze, smiled and gave him another tiny wink, and was gratified to see Fai relax a little.  Then, before Fai could think too hard about what was coming next, Ashura pricked his bare index finger.

A glistening drop of crimson welled up, small, but just enough.  Only a single drop was required for this rite.  Ashura quickly smeared it on the center of Fai's forehead.  Fai flinched slightly, but that was all.  Ashura held his breath, but no wild magic erupted from the Land, and Fai remained calm.

The worst was over, and Ashura was grateful beyond measure that it had been anticlimactic.  He smiled again, both with relief and with parental pride, and proclaimed, "I now name thee Fai D Fluorite, Wizard of Wizards, and bestow upon thee all the honors and obligations of thy power and position.  Rise, and let all present behold thy visage, that they might know thee for all time."  He handed his knife back to the female attendant and helped Fai to his feet.  Then, with great flourish, he himself gave Fai back his staff.

He took Fai's hand with his ungloved one, held it aloft, and led Fai all around the clearing so everyone could recognize the new D-titled wizard.  He and Fai stopped at nine different points, and each time Ashura proclaimed to all the witnesses:  "Behold the Wizard of Wizards, Child of the Moon and Stars, the Lord Wizard Fai D Fluorite!"

And so, like his ancient ancestors, the long-forgotten priest-kings of Seresu's prehistory, Ashura had named his Chosen executioner.

But none of the mages saw or knew any of that, and at that moment not even Ashura cared one whit for the dark past or the doomed future.  All that mattered was Fai's elevation, the pride and pleasure beaming from Fai's summer-blue eyes.  The joy in Ashura's heart overflowed and washed away all traces of bitterness.  In truth, he was as proud as Fai. 

He brought Fai around to present him to his peers, the other four D-titled wizards.  Not that they were really Fai's equals.  Fai's power already far outstripped theirs.  Fai would accomplish deeds that none of them could ever even imagine, Ashura thought smugly.

Then he and Fai returned to the place at the front of the altar.  His arms spread wide, Ashura commanded the entire assembly: "Acknowledge the Wizard of Wizards, Child of the Moon and Stars, the Lord Wizard Fai D Fluorite!"

And with that, the solemn atmosphere broke.  Deafening cheers rose, and every magician released glowing, multicolored magelights that rose high into the cold air, so that the sky was filled with glorious, rainbow-hued light.  The stars and the moon were blotted out, outshone by those splendid magical spheres, a joyous illumination that lifted Ashura's heart and pushed aside the forbidding promise of the dark days to come.

Fai clutched his staff and gaped skyward at the spectacle, enraptured.  Ashura rested his hands on Fai's shoulders, embracing the pleasure and pure happiness of the occasion.


	7. Chapter 7

Fai's investiture might have been held on short notice, but that didn't mean there were no celebrations.  Ashura had declared the night and day of Fai's elevation a holiday for all, not just the magical folk.

After the ceremony, they rode back to the castle.  Fai rode on his favorite mount alongside Ashura.  Kendappa and the rest of the royal family followed.  Behind them were the court wizards, then the rest of the mages.  On the way, they passed through Luval Town.  The local people had seen the sky-display of magelights over the forest and had begun celebrating in their usual way:  raucously.  Bonfires were lit, with large spits of meat roasting.  Wine and ale flowed like water.  The townsfolk waved and cheered as the king and the mages passed through.  Many lifted a toast to Fai, and Fai waved back enthusiastically.

Back at Luval Castle, a great feast had been prepared.  All mages who had attended the ceremony were invited to this royal feast, no matter their rank, their power, or their birth status.  Only the Völur declined.  As was their custom, the mysterious, holy priestesses had departed into the depths of the forest as soon as the ceremony had concluded.  The rest of the magicians enthusiastically joined their king in the Great Hall to feast in honor of their new Wizard of Wizards.  For many, this would be the only opportunity they would get in their whole lives to dine at a royal castle and in such exalted company.  And, as mage-folk did not tend to suffer from an excess of self-deprecation or modesty, they all took advantage of the occasion.

As a result, the Great Hall was brimming with mages and courtiers.  The court was still large, its non-permanent members not having yet left Luval to overwinter on their own estates, as was the usual practice for most of them.  Many of the nobility in residence had, in fact, been preparing to depart before the first storms of deep winter arrived, but had delayed their goodbyes in order to celebrate Fai's elevation to Wizard of Wizards.

At the high table, Fai sat on Ashura's right, in the seat of greatest honor—although that was where he usually sat in any case, unless there was some visiting dignitary to humor.  Ashura noticed with mingled sadness and amusement that Fai's face was freshly scrubbed, and not a trace of the tiny mark of blood remained.  Kendappa, the rest of the royal family, and the most important nobles and wizards made up the rest of the retinue on the dais.

It was a merry company.  Everyone was in high spirits, and honestly happy for Fai.  They laughed and teased Fai gently about his awful new responsibilities to Ashura, who mock-scowled at the lighthearted jibes, given that, while they were complimentary to Fai, they were implied insults to him.  Kendappa jeered at him and pointed out that he deserved no better, and recounted a couple of childhood follies he had indulged in which would not have been tolerated in anyone but the crown prince.  Ashura grinned and admitted that Fai was, in general, better behaved than he had ever been, and far more deserving of high honors.  To which Kendappa retorted that nothing had changed and that those things were still very much the case.

To everyone's amusement, at that point Fai stood up and defended his foster father.  "That's not true," he proclaimed indignantly.  "King Ashura is the best and wisest king ever, and dignified and mature, too.  You should be nicer to him!"

"Of course, Lord Wizard," Kendappa said demurely, amidst strangled laughter from her dinner partners.  "Everyone knows I always defer to His Majesty's grace and wisdom."  She nodded solemnly to her royal cousin.  "I offer my most humble apologies to Your Majesty for my uncharacteristic impudence."

"Uncharacteristic?" Ashura mouthed silently, and Kendappa practically twinkled at him.  Ashura kept his expression placid, though his eyes danced.  He stated with utmost formality, "I accept your apology, Lady Kendappa."  To Fai, he added, "Thank you, Lord Wizard.  You are already fulfilling your new duties impeccably."

"Okay."  Satisfied that he had routed the enemy, Fai gave a sharp nod and sat back down.  He pursed his lips, looking curiously intent.  "So that'll be my job, then."

"Your job?" Ashura queried, wondering what the apparent non sequitur meant.

"As Royal Wizard," Fai explained.  "I'm your defender."

Oh, that was just so cute.  Ashura felt a doting smile coming on and suppressed it, suspecting that Fai might take it amiss.  Gravely, he said, "So be it.  The duties for that position are fluid, and defined differently for each person who holds the office.  I accept your admirable and honorable decision."

Fai preened like a peacock.

The royal cooks had outdone themselves, and had even worked during their precious free time to make Fai's celebratory feast special and memorable.  While all the castle servants adored Fai, the cooks in particular had practically adopted him, and he often spent time in the kitchens learning their arts.  They had prepared many of his favorite dishes, all with beautiful detail.  Many were gilded with real gold, seasoned with rare and exotic spices, and painted with edible dyes in glorious colors and images.

Throughout each course, the cooks and servants brought out a wide variety of rich foods:  sauces, stews, pies both sweet and savory, soups, salads, roasted meats, fish, and egg dishes, all of which they presented with great flourish.  No one, highborn or low, would go unsatisfied from this feast.

The dishes at the high table were particularly varied and flamboyant:  Roast venison trimmed with gold foil and served with lingonberry compote, rabbit pies seasoned with cinnamon and mace, white fish in wine and peppercorns, pickled sea bird eggs, a goose stuffed with a chicken, stuffed with a pigeon, stuffed with a sparrow.  The wine flowed freely from gold and silver pitchers, and for the children there were a number of fruit juices.

Fai loved sweets, and the cooks had created many treats especially for him.  There were custards, little cakes, pastries fried in oil, a variety of fruits, and many other tasty dainties.  Completing each course were large subtleties, those elaborate food and sugar sculptures that were partly dessert, partly works of art, and partly showmanship.  One in particular portrayed a serious young wizard with yellow hair and a tall, golden staff.  Ashura smiled at that one.  Someone familiar with the pre-ceremony preparations had faithfully related to the pastry chefs every detail of Fai's costly investiture attire, right down to the patterns on his cloak and the colors of the jewels he had worn.  Probably it had been Kendappa who had supervised that construction, as she had coordinated Fai's wardrobe for the occasion.  The magnificent confection was not the work of an hour; it must have taken the pastry chefs days, and their care reflected their affection for Fai.

Fai was overwhelmed by the likeness.  Ashura gave him a pouch of gold coins, which he distributed to each of the cooks while stumbling over his thanks for their skill and thoughtfulness.  The cooks beamed at him.

Musicians played, and, even with the limited time constraints, Kendappa had managed to engage a number of special performers.  Between each course jugglers, acrobats, singers, and actors entertained the assembled company of mages and nobility.

The feast went on for hours, well into the night.  Partway through, Ashura excused Fai to go off with Virender and Mielu, who were both close to him in age, and play some games.  All the children had been on their best behavior, but it was unfair to expect that to continue for too long.  Ashura sent their caretakers along with them, with instructions to put them all to bed soon.

Kendappa remarked softly to him, "Not many D-titled wizards run off to play, especially not during official royal functions."

Ashura replied just as quietly into her ear, so as not to be overheard by any but her, "Maybe they'd be more tolerable if they did."

Kendappa couldn't help laughing.  When Suhail, who was sitting near her, asked her what had amused her so, she merely related an old and not-terribly-funny joke.  The dignified, D-titled wizard smiled uncertainly and commented with benign political decorum that her sense of humor was quite interesting this evening.

Naturally enough, that sent her into peals of laughter, and Ashura was forced to turn away to hide his own snickers.

The next day, a special court was convened in the throne room, during which Ashura announced Fai's magical elevation and created him Royal Wizard.  That affair was held before the full court, with the Council of Nobles, the court wizards, the royal family, and other aristocrats both magical and mundane in attendance.  It was a typical award ceremony, during which Fai swore a few more oaths, and Ashura presented him with the legal documents and insignia of the office.  It concluded much like the earlier, mock ceremony in the Silvalfar Forest, back when Ashura had first informed Fai that he would receive the D title, only this time without either the hugs or the tears.

Another feast followed, and the rest of the week was filled with all manner of celebrations and special fairs throughout Seresu.  Fai's portrait, announcements of his elevation, and notices praising his power, his virtue, and his philanthropy had been posted with great fanfare in all the public places.  There were decorations and performances in town squares, and the alehouses and eateries did brisk business.  At Luval there were more feasts, parties with music and dancing, demonstrations of magic and arms, and every other kind of celebratory activity that Ashura and Kendappa could manage.

By the end of the week, everyone in the country blessed Fai's name.  Not one person, not even the grumpiest, most curmudgeonly old hermit-mage in the most remote and backward corner of the kingdom, would hear a word against Fai, nor utter any disparaging remarks that Fai was too young for his ascension to the highest magical honor in the land.


	8. III:  The King's Shield

**III:  The King's Shield**

 

As it turned out, Fai was a nine days' wonder.  An amusing irony in a land where the number nine held mystical significance, Ashura thought.  He was pleased by how quickly the excitement and speculation generated by Fai's elevation had subsided, and how the novelty of the supreme child-wizard had worn off.  Everyone simply accepted that the title and position were Fai's due.  That, Ashura believed, was as it should be.

Kendappa's expressed hope that Fai's new title might instill responsibility and caution in him did not come to fruition.  But then, Ashura hadn't expected Fai's behavior to change.  And indeed it had not.  Fai continued to wander, often recklessly.

As always, Ashura had mixed feelings about that, but was willing to trust in the Seresian people's fondness for Fai, the wizards assigned to look after him, and most importantly, Fai's unmatched power.  To Kendappa's annoyance, he did nothing to discourage his child.  But then, Kendappa would never know his reasons for doing what he did, for allowing Fai so much freedom.

Life went on.  Kingdom business continued with tiresome regularity, no matter how many holidays Ashura declared.  Deep winter arrived, immersing the country in the usual seasonal storms.  Politics slowed down due to the harsh weather, and maintenance tasks increased.  Everyone was too busy to indulge in very much political infighting.  The blizzards and ice storms always damaged buildings and roads, and repairs were performed at breakneck speed during brief periods of clement weather.  Provisions had to be imported and distributed.  Justice was rendered in cases important or severe enough to be brought to the king's attention, and general order maintained.  Luval received correspondence from all over the kingdom, some asking for help, some merely reporting status.  Ashura and his advisors reviewed everything done, approved requests for funds, workmen, and supplies, and sent additional aid as needed.  In general, most things went on as normal.

What was not normal was the situation in the Southlands.  A disproportionate number of letters came from the recently conquered Arimaspi lands that abutted that territory.

The war with Arimaspea had been a brutal affair, but in Ashura's opinion it had concluded in a satisfactory manner.  Seresu had taken almost a quarter of its old enemy's territory before the Arimaspi king had capitulated.  King Skudra had not been gracious about it, but he had been forced to withdraw.  He had foamed at the mouth and vowed all kinds of vile acts of revenge, but he had retreated nonetheless.  In the process, he had concentrated his forces and defenses on the new border, and it simply hadn't been practical for Seresu's army to continue to advance.  Ashura had accepted the new status quo, and ordered his army dig in to the occupied Arimaspi territory.  He intended to hold what he had taken.

The spoils had been divided, and several border lords, of which the most prominent were Lord Taishakuten of the Southlands and Lord Ilmarinen of Pohjola, had been given the responsibility of rebuilding and governing the new lands.  They were more than capable of taming a difficult populace.

There had been a number of troubles, which Ashura had expected.  Conquered people were unlikely to be compliant to their new rulers.  It was hardly surprising that the Arimaspi were stubborn about submitting to their despised enemies.

One blustery day, Ashura worked in his office of state, going through his latest correspondence at his desk.  Kendappa had elected to join him, and sat in a chair by the great stone fireplace, idly strumming her harp.  The notes mingled with the crackle of the snapping flames in the hearth and the wind that rattled the windows, an interesting song that blended nature and human artifice.  It would have made for a pleasant winter's afternoon, had Ashura not received a particularly alarming package of letters.  Foremost was a missive from the mayor of Spou, the conquered Arimaspi town nearest the Southlands.  A goodly number of letters from noble Seresian witnesses accompanied it. 

Spou had once been a walled city, and boasted a good-sized castle nearby for defense.  During the war, the walls had been breached, the castle taken and occupied by Seresian soldiers.  The Arimaspi nobility who had ruled there had all been put to the sword.

As the town was now under Seresian control, questions of governance sometimes came to Ashura, but usually they were from Taishakuten and only addressed specific issues of formal policy.  This time was different.  Ashura frowned as he read the mayor's letter.  There had been some minor trouble, the mayor wrote, with a few rebels creating public disturbances and inciting the populace to disobedience.  Lord Taishakuten had immediately intervened and publicly tortured the rebels to death, and imposed an even more severe form of martial law on the town than it had already been enduring. 

Ashura had already known of that particular incident, and hadn't paid it much heed.  Before taking action, Taishakuten had written of his intent, and Ashura had assumed that Taishakuten's response to the small rebel group would be outsized and overwhelming.  Naturally, suppression was necessary and inevitable.  The rest of the conquered Arimaspi would observe and take note to moderate their own behavior.  Some well publicized punishments and executions now would prevent larger outbreaks of insurrection from occurring later.  After a time, their obedience would become ingrained and habitual, and the severity used against them could be lessened.

The mayor's letter complained that Taishakuten was going too far.  After executing the rebels, Taishakuten had proceeded to randomly punish near a quarter of the townspeople "as an example for all Arimaspi."  Taishakuten's methods, Ashura knew, were often brutal.  The Lord of the Southlands was famous—or infamous—for harsh justice and had a reputation for callousness and cruelty.  Ashura had been prepared for complaints.  However, this latest incident was disturbing.

The mayor's report—corroborated in graphic detail by other letters from witnesses—of the methods Taishakuten had employed to maim and kill so many in the town chilled even Ashura's blood.  He was no saint; neither was he particularly well-disposed toward any Arimaspi.  But at least he didn't torture innocent people for the fun of it.  A number of the victims had been women and young children.  Ashura understood and approved the necessity of demonstrating that no disobedience would be tolerated.  It needed to be clear to all that vengeance would fall swiftly for the sins of rebels, but the children...

The descriptions of what had been done to the children haunted him, and brought back memories of that terrible place in which Fai had once been imprisoned in Valeria.

Taishakuten got results, Ashura couldn't deny that—but his methods were unsavory and often disquieting, and these latest atrocities were much too harsh.  The war was over.  It was time now to create and enforce stability, not plant the seeds for fresh rebellions.

The new lands wouldn't just provide more wealth once they recovered.  They also served a strategic purpose, making a nice buffer zone against Arimaspi aggression.  King Skudra's troops might be reluctant to make war on their own people.  Even if they weren't, they'd have to cross their old territory and attack their former countrymen first in order to get to their real targets, which would protect Seresu proper for a time.  It was imperative to hold the new territory, and keep it quiet.

The noble Seresian witnesses who had written to complain of Taishakuten's actions were clearly appalled by what had been done.  Given that none of them loved Arimaspi, their dismay was significant.  Even Lord Ilmarinen had complained and demanded that Taishakuten be curbed.  Ilmarinen wrote plainly that Taishakuten's actions were creating discord even in those conquered regions he did not control, and were making governance more difficult for the other border lords.

Taishakuten's campaign of terror could be catastrophic.  Word would get back Arimaspea, and would certainly spur general outrage in that populace.  They had relatives and friends among those conquered.  Rage over the mistreatment of their countrymen would swell the ranks of Skudra's armies.  Skudra would gain overwhelming popular support; using that, he could collect more taxes, rebuild his war engines, forge more weapons, without any political opposition at all.  The war would begin anew, before Seresu could fully recover.  In response, Ashura would also have to impose new taxes and more conscriptions, allocate more resources for weapons, animals, tools, provisions—all in the midst of deep winter and while everyone was still rebuilding.

Ashura sighed, looking again at the letter.  The mayor of Spou begged for relief, any relief.  Ashura rubbed his face and muttered, "I need to pay more attention to the south this winter."

His words, though quiet, seemed to echo through the office.  Kendappa gave him a sharp glance, set her harp aside, and came over to him.  Her skirts whispered as she moved, soft swishes of silk and velvet.

"What is amiss?" she asked, brushing his shoulder lightly.

Ashura handed her the mayor's letter.  She gave it a cursory read, and returned it to him with a dainty grimace.

"I had best do something about this immediately," he said.  He didn't need all of the new conquered territories rising against him, not when the rebuilding was still ongoing in the Southlands, not while the country was in deep winter's grip.  Honestly, what was Taishakuten thinking?  "I may need to go down there myself."

"Why?" she asked, looking honestly baffled.

Ashura gestured to the other letters.  "I have been receiving an alarming number of these kinds of pleas from other towns, as well.  Even from Ilmarinen, which means this should be treated seriously."  He passed her the Lord of Pohjola's letter of complaint.  "It is clear that Taishakuten is going too far in his governorship of the Arimaspi territories.  The people need to know that they can expect to receive justice and mercy for good behavior, as well as punishment for bad.  Taishakuten is not demonstrating that balance to them."

Kendappa barely glanced at Ilmarinen's letter before dropping it with the other missives.  "Well, he's putting on an extreme show this time, but do you really think he's going to make a regular policy of punishing entire towns for the actions of just a few subversives?"

"If he's left unchecked, you mean?  Of course I do.  Don't you?"

She shrugged half-heartedly, and then proceeded to make clear that she rather approved of it.  "What difference does it make?" she asked.  Her elaborate sleeve of silk and silver lace fluttered as she waved a hand negligently.  "They're _Arimaspi_."

She said that as though she didn't even consider the Arimaspi human.  Which, Ashura was certain, she didn't.  It was the common sentiment in Seresu.  But then, he thought foully, most Seresians didn't have to clean up the mess Taishakuten was making.

She added, "Those worms should be grateful they're even still alive and breathing.  Let Taishakuten deal with them as he pleases, as long as he keeps them under control."  She gave him a long, disbelieving look.  "Are you actually feeling pity for them?  You?"

Ashura was silent.  It was true enough that he didn't particularly care about Arimaspi in general, being no different from other Seresians in that regard.  The long, long history of hatred and war between the two kingdoms meant the bigotry could never be erased.  There were no written accounts of how the conflict had even begun, although because of his dreams, Ashura knew more details than most.  He understood that it had had to do with the founding of Seresu, and that ultimately both countries had been at fault.  But now, neither side cared about whys and wherefores.  Over the many centuries, the hostility had hardened into bone-deep racial hatred, power lust, and greed for riches and property.

While Ashura didn't like to see innocents tortured and murdered, he knew he could never love the Arimaspi.  He was well aware that every Arimaspi living, adult or child, would be more than happy to see his head on a pike.

But his personal feelings didn't preclude the necessity of ruling all his territories.  He would govern all his people, the native Seresians and the newly conquered Arimaspi.  It was his responsibility.  Besides, he was absolutely determined to hold the new territories—and make sure the children of the Arimaspi became true and good Seresians.

He considered the real reasons for the latter goal, and hated himself.

Kendappa said, "After what they did to you and Fai almost two years ago, I wouldn't be surprised if you ordered Taishakuten to exterminate them."

"People should be led by both the carrot and the stick.  Extreme abuse of the sort Taishakuten is dispensing causes trouble."

"Arimaspi aren't people."

And there it was, the racial hatred so ingrained in both kingdoms.  Ashura recalled the incident Kendappa had just mentioned, when he and Fai had been captured by an Arimaspi war party.  The leader had regarded Ashura the same way, calling him "a subhuman enemy fit only to be slaughtered like livestock."

It was only natural that the feeling was mutual on the Seresian side.

"You're getting soft in the head," Kendappa accused him.  "They don't deserve any mercy."  She folded her arms across her chest defiantly.  "Or perhaps you've just plain gotten soft.  It's not just your stupid attitude toward the Arimaspi, but also your leniency and overindulgence of Fai, when you should be reining him in, and also—"

Ashura shot her a dark look.  "That's enough, cousin."

She scowled at him.  "It's all of a piece, isn't it?  You've changed over the past two years."

"I know," he said sadly.  Two years ago he had learned the truth about Seresu's destiny, and his own.  How could he not change?  "I can't help it."

His change had been for the worse in almost all respects.  Kendappa mistakenly believed him soft toward the Arimaspi, but really it was ugly pragmatism.  Misplaced pity was not the reason he didn't want to see the conquered territories ravaged even more, and it had nothing to do with why he wanted to integrate the Arimaspi into Seresu as seamlessly as possible.

No, his reasons for that last all had to do with Fai.  How ironic, that Kendappa had mentioned Fai in her diatribe.  Ashura hoped that children born to the conquered Arimaspi would be considered Seresians by Seresu's native magic, that they would be bound to the land by the ancient mystical enchantments that bound all Seresians to the Land and the King.  That perhaps his curse, the Divine Spear of Madness, would consider them acceptable sacrifices for power.

One day Ashura might very well need to shed their blood, as he would shed the blood of the rest of his people.  Perhaps that extra blood might make the difference, might help to make him stronger than Fai, so Fai's curses could both be eliminated with one fatal blow.

Recognizing the viciousness and innate cruelty of his own plans, of his own nature, did nothing to mitigate his temper over the current issues.  He fumed, both at himself and at his cousin, whose complaints and arguments had caused his guilt to resurface and prick at him yet again.

"I don't understand you anymore," Kendappa lamented, ignoring the glowers directed at her.  "Not that you have ever been easy to fathom, but this new mood of yours is incomprehensible.  Your father would have—"

"I'm not my father!" Ashura finally snapped, rising up and slamming his fist on his desk so hard it rattled.  They glared at each other, Kendappa's eyes glittering angrily.  Ashura again thought of the future, remembering a terrible flash of dream-vision in which those very eyes had been dull with death, frozen in a stare of accusation.  He felt himself droop inside, and sat back down with a sigh.

Tight-lipped, Kendappa waited in silence.

Too much, he thought regretfully.  It was all too much.  He couldn't bear it.  It wore at him, fraying his nerves and gnawing at his conscience:  The way the distant future tinged every single, tiny thing he did, every decision he made, all his relationships.  That burden was slowly, ever so slowly, breaking him.

His knowledge of the future was bad enough, but to have his closest companions believe him to be going daft and weak?  And for himself, to keep remembering his visions of them as dead by his own hand?  His behavior and attitudes, he knew, sometimes baffled everyone around him, especially when he couldn't think of acceptable explanations—lies—to placate them.  No one else knew the truth, and they could never know the truth, not until it was too late for everyone, too late for Seresu, too late for the whole world.  And even then all they would learn was that their king was a monster, and only while he tore their final, blood-choked screams from their throats.

The fire crackled, and an absurdly loud pop from it broke the tension.

Ashura sighed again, and proffered a logical excuse, one that would be easily understood, a rationale that everyone could agree on.  "Kendappa, when even Lord Ilmarinen writes to complain, you know the situation must be grave.  Taishakuten's actions are making trouble for everyone on the border."

"You should let him do as he pleases.  He's strong, and he knows how to deal with those _people_ ," she said with a sneer.  "He'll get them under control."

Everyone always misjudged Kendappa before they got to know the real woman, Ashura reflected, irritated anew with her and her obstinate refusal to go along with him.  People always assumed she was a refined and gentle princess.  Her coiffed and polished appearance, her skill with her harp, her physical beauty and her exquisite taste in clothes and jewels, her cultured, amusing banter—all those graces had always belied Kendappa's true nature.  They were nothing more than camouflage, like the mottled white fur that hid the snowcat from its prey.  Kendappa was not gentle.

She had been raised in the royal family, and absorbed all their training and attitudes.  She was as ruthless and callous as the most calculating, ambitious members of the royal court.  She was also stubborn and opinionated, she despised weakness and what she considered to be misplaced kindness, and she was not afraid to voice those opinions. 

Sometimes those traits were an advantage.  Other times, like now, they made things more difficult.  The disrespect was not to be tolerated, and though Ashura understood her attitude, he could not countenance it.  He knew she liked Taishakuten, and even favored him at times, but she could not be allowed to support the Lord of the Southlands in this.  For political reasons, she could not be seen to disagree with Ashura on this subject.  A united front would be imperative in the Southlands and the Arimaspi territories.

"He will drive them to rise up against us," Ashura countered coldly.  "Too much repression breeds rebellion.  We're still rebuilding in the Southlands, Pohjola, and the other border territories.  We can't afford insurrection, not now.  A new war would be catastrophic.  You know the southern lands possess the best farmlands in the entire country."

She was still angry, he could tell, but she had spent her entire life in the political arena and understood its realities.  She swallowed her anger in the face of blunt facts that could not be denied.  "Yes," she grumbled.  "Yes, that's true."

"The new Arimaspi lands also encompass significant tracts of arable farmland," he added relentlessly, intent on beating her arguments down.  "I cannot allow Taishakuten to decimate entire populations for the offenses of a few miscreants.  Corpses, cripples, and rebels do not work the fields, nor do they produce many goods or services."

Her eyes narrowed and her lip curled in distaste, but she knew all those things.  She nodded, acknowledging the unavoidable conclusions.  "And a rebellion would ravage those lands and destroy the local economy.  The rebels would probably burn the fields and sow them with poison, too, just for spite, even though it meant they would starve as well."

"You do understand?  A large part of the Southlands would also be damaged by a rebellion.  It would be a very hard time for us all.  The Arimaspi need to be integrated into our society, not isolated and given even more reasons to fight us."

"How idealistic of you," she muttered.

Ashura snorted, because of course it wasn't idealistic of him at all.  It was monstrous, like all his other plans for the future.  "Practical, not idealistic," he corrected with perfect truth.  "I do not pretend it will be easy.  It will take many years of careful application of punishments and rewards, and in the end may well prove impossible, given the strains between our two peoples.  But for the future's sake, we must try."  And that was perfectly true, as well.  Just not in any way his cousin would approve, nor for any future she would desire.

He truly was a monster.

Kendappa exhaled.  "Yes, I understand," she relented, her anger fading, repugnance growing in its place.  "I don't like it, though."

"Of course not," he allowed.  "None of us will like it.  They're Arimaspi, after all.  But we have no choice, not if we want to keep the new lands.  Skudra will be looking for any opportunity to take them back, you know.  Any rebellion there, any unrest, would be like issuing him an open invitation.  We cannot let him perceive weakness or discord in us.  Taishakuten will still maintain strong governance and defenses; he just cannot be allowed to behave so abusively that he drives the populace to desperation.  From the sound of things, they are close already."

"You shouldn't have to bow to those vermin's demands," she said, sulking.  "You're their king now.  They should bow to you."

"I'm hardly bowing to any demands," Ashura returned with calculated and lofty arrogance.  "They aren't making demands.  In fact, they are bowing to me, by begging for succor from their king.  I shall be magnanimous in my power over them by dispensing justice and showing mercy to a conquered foe."

Kendappa made a disgusted noise.  "So Taishakuten will be curbed.  A shame, but I suppose you are right and it is necessary."

Ashura leaned forward, resting heavily on his elbows on his desk.  "Yes, it must be done.  Please send for a scribe.  There are a number of matters I must arrange before I leave."

"You're really going down there yourself?"

"I think I must.  The people must see that ultimate authority over them comes from me.  It will be a good example for all the borderlands, not just Taishakuten's territories and the Arimaspi."

"During deep winter?  You know the storms and travel conditions will be terrible.  It will take weeks to get down there."

Ashura uttered a short laugh.  "I don't intend to journey the long, hard way.  However, I do plan to get some troops moving now, so they will already be in residence in the Southlands when I teleport there."

"Ah," Kendappa said, understanding lighting her eyes.  "You don't really think Taishakuten will defy you in this, do you?"

"He's never been anything but loyal," Ashura said with consideration.  "But he is accustomed to a great deal of autonomy, and I doubt he'll be pleased to see me at this time.  Nevertheless, a show of royal authority and strength is always a good thing, especially in a difficult situation."

Kendappa nodded, and left.  Her face was carefully blank.

Ashura was certain she still didn't care, and thought him a clod head for worrying so much about the situation.  He had hoped that political and defensive realities might sway her, or that she would at least take Ilmarinen's complaints seriously.  After all, Ilmarinen was as unlikely to be sympathetic to the Arimaspi's plight as she, but she had barely glanced at the Lord of Pohjola's letter.  She probably wished all the Arimaspi be hanged on general principles, even if she did acknowledge that they would be needed as a labor force, if nothing else.

He shrugged.  As long as she didn't oppose him in public, he supposed it didn't matter.

In any case, the situation couldn't wait.  He had to go down to the Southlands:  to impress his authority on both Taishakuten and the conquered Arimaspi; to put on a display of kingly justice and judgment for all; and to curb Taishakuten's independence and brutality.

Ashura drew out some spell-runes, and put himself into contact with Taishakuten's head wizard, Master Ateas.  That unsuspecting wizard was quite shocked to receive a direct communication from his king, but after he recovered he listened well enough.

Ashura sent him directly to Taishakuten, and then proceeded to have the wizard repeat, word for word and in front of noble witnesses, the royal edict that Taishakuten cease brutalizing the Arimaspi unjustly.

 

* * *

 

Author's Note:  No, you didn't miss anything.  While I ended _Choosing Priorities_ and _Cooking Magic_ with Seresu and Arimaspea going to war, I never wrote any story about the war (primarily because I couldn't think of a role for little Fai to play in it).  So I have started Part III with what I hope is enough information for readers to understand the pressures driving this part of the story.  I hope it is not too confusing.

 


	9. Chapter 9

The mountains rumbled.

The snowpack shivered and shifted.  The frozen surfaces cracked and peeled away.  Sheets of snow and ice slipped free and descended, roaring down, down, picking up momentum and debris and ever increasing masses of snow.  Uprooted trees and boulders tumbled like flotsam, all carried along by the irresistible downward flow.

The avalanche glistened in the bright sunlight, deafening, ever changing, growing larger and larger, throwing up billowing white clouds of crystalline powder as it surged down the mountain slope.  Beautiful.  Deadly.  A monster.

At the foot of the slope, a snowbound village awaited its fate.  Its residents had not had enough warning to escape.  Despite the futility of flight, still they slogged through the deep snow that impeded their movements, trying to get out of the path of the approaching white death.

Too slow, too slow.  They wouldn't, couldn't make it.

A small, solitary figure stood before the village, a wizard.  His determine posture proclaiming his defiance of nature's horrific fury, he stood partway up the steep slope, directly in the path of the unstoppable masses of snow and ice and debris.  His staff flashed, glinting with gold, sky blue jewels, and a focus stone made from a unique fluorite crystal.  His hood fell back, and blond hair glowed in the sunshine like a halo as he marshaled his power.

 The avalanche broke over the young wizard—

 "Fai!" Ashura gasped, sitting bolt upright in his bed.

 


	10. Chapter 10

The days passed, then a week, then more.  Ashura saw no sign that his latest dream would be realized.  The mountain snow and ice packs remained stable.

Instead, a violent blizzard swept down from the north.  Kendappa proved to be more prophetic than him, and her prediction that ordinary, non-magical travel to Taishakuten's stronghold, Castle Vasara, in the Southlands would take weeks came true.  Ashura had sent an advance force of some reliable lords, an impressive number of troops, and a court wizard, Lord Syed D Greenstone.  Syed communicated regular progress reports, so Ashura knew where his people were at all times and the conditions they endured.  The country was practically buried in snow, and travel hindered significantly.

New reports via wizards indicated that Taishakuten had obeyed Ashura's orders to stop abusing the Arimaspi—or rather, the innocent ones—under his control.  Ashura still planned to go to the Southlands, but there seemed to be more peace than before.  That might simply be due to the massive blizzard, though, he thought sourly.  Everyone would be snowed in and dealing with the burdens of so much snow and ice.  They would have no time for malicious mischief, neither the rebels nor Taishakuten.

Though there were no signs of loosening snowpacks in the mountains, still Ashura's dream of Fai facing an avalanche remained in the back of his mind, always scratching at the edges of his consciousness and chafing his nerves.  Logically, he knew that Fai's life was probably safe—although that was by no means guaranteed.  As he had learned through painful experiences, it was always possible that some odd detail, minute or large, might cause the future to shift.  But even if Fai didn't die, he might be injured.  He might become buried in snow.  He might have difficulty breathing, become afraid, maybe even panic so much he didn't think to blast the snow away or teleport himself to safety...

Ashura shivered.  He had seen entire villages wiped out by avalanches before.  It happened, and suffocation by being buried alive was not a pretty death.

He added another wizard to Fai's collection of magical overseers.

The blizzard passed, and everyone dug out and commenced with the usual repairs.  Shortly thereafter, Ashura received word from Syed that the advance force had arrived at Vasara and been greeted by Lord Taishakuten with perfect grace.  Lord Taishakuten, Syed reported, was most pleased by the news of the king's impending visit, and of course he would welcome His Majesty at any time.

Ashura indulged in some private amusement at that, and wondered just how annoyed Taishakuten was with this latest show of royal interference.  Too bad for Taishakuten.  Ashura intended to make clear to all that the lords were most definitely not free to do as they pleased, just as he intended to demonstrate to the Arimaspi that disobedience would not be tolerated.

He told Syed that he and his company would arrive in five days' time.  That would give everyone at Luval the opportunity to pack, and the people at Vasara time to make arrangements to house the king and his entourage.  Ashura didn't consider that the time might be too limited for a visit of such scale.  Everyone always managed when he gave short notice, and this time would be no different.  In any case, he intended to stay in the Southlands for no longer than a week or two, but, as many members of the court were going, extensive preparations were required.

After he finished working out the details with Syed, he went to go tell Fai to get ready.  He knew he should leave Fai behind in the safety of Luval Castle, considering the troubles in the south.  But due to that terrible dream, he wanted to keep Fai close.  It was pure foolishness on his part; Fai would meet that avalanche no matter what anyone did.  Ashura didn't care.  It simply made him feel better to have Fai near at hand, where he could keep an eye on his child.

He found Fai outdoors, in one of the sheltered practice courtyards.  This particular practice yard was set with "plum blossom poles," a training aid his great-grandfather had imported from another land.  It was designed to improve balance and agility.

It consisted of a set of wooden poles driven vertically into the earth in a variety of patterns.  The width of each pole was four to eight inches in diameter, and currently the heights varied from six to eighteen inches.  A thick layer of sawdust cushioned the ground.  The student balanced on top of the poles, and could practice stances, moving forms, and even sparring with partner.

Ashura had started Fai on the plum blossom poles the previous year.  At that time, the poles had been just a couple of inches tall, and Fai had quickly developed his skill upon them.  They were one of Fai's favorite training devices.

Fai was presently navigating the poles with an ease and grace that was quite unnatural for a child of his age and experience.  At the far end of the courtyard a target had been set up.  Fai vaulted into the air, came down on two poles in a perfect forward stance, and produced three small throwing knives.  Ashura wasn't sure where Fai had been hiding them, and before he could work it out, they flashed through the air.  All three hit the target.  None hit the bull's-eye, but the fact that Fai had hit the target at all while dancing atop the poles was amazing enough.

Ashura himself had trained upon the poles in his youth, and sometimes sparred with Fai on them.  He well knew that soon Fai would surpass him at this activity, as Fai already bested him at many magical techniques.  He clapped his hands appreciatively.  "That was superb, Fai!" he called.

Fai indulged in a bit of preening, then hopped over the poles and dismounted to land at Ashura's side.  "Are we leaving soon?" he asked eagerly.

Fai had been enthusiastic when he'd first heard of the trip, and it appeared his excitement had not abated.  Ashura found Fai's anticipation of this visit something of a mystery.  Fai made a habit of teleporting around the mountains, so a journey like this shouldn't be terribly exciting to him.  In addition, Fai did not particularly love the Southlands.  That territory held some bad memories for him, being the place where the Arimaspi had once ambushed them both.  That incident had precipitated the war.

Ashura honestly hadn't expected this trip to be particularly interesting for his son, as Fai was still a bit too young to appreciate politics.  Nor did Fai fully comprehend, or even care about, the complexities of the situation with the Arimaspi.  Despite his unusual mental maturity, Fai was a child, and often saw things in terms of black and white, rather than infinite shades of gray.  For him, the Arimaspi were in the wrong, and that was all there was to it.

"Yes," Ashura said.  "We shall depart in five days.  I prefer to stay in the Southlands for no more than one week, perhaps two, but that will depend on the situation there.  There may be complications, so the duration may be longer."

"Complications?"

Ashura hoped the Arimaspi wouldn't provide too many difficulties, and didn't want Fai to worry about problems that might never materialize.  He offered a benign, and in his opinion, more likely scenario:  "The weather may not cooperate.  It is unpredictable this time of year.  A heavy snowstorm could prevent public assemblies, so we may have to wait it out.  In any case, the servants have begun packing, so you had best decide now if there is anything in particular that you wish to bring with you."

Even though he still never smiled, Fai brightened.  "I'm so glad you didn't change your mind," he said.

"About what?"

"About letting me come along.  I was afraid you'd make me stay behind," he said, demonstrating that he understood enough about the situation in the south to know his presence would be unusual.

Well, and so I should keep you at home, Ashura thought.  But the vision of the avalanche haunted him.  He was just too weak and fearful to leave Fai behind, even though he knew he couldn't protect Fai from fate.

"I'm the Royal Wizard," Fai said, rather self-importantly.  "It's my job to protect the king.  I can't do that from Luval when you're away."

"Oh."  And what more could be said to that?  It was really quite touching.  It was also a little surprising that Fai even remembered his impetuous assumption of the role of royal protector on the eve he'd been invested with his D title.  Ashura realized now that Fai was still serious about that position.  He would have to be careful not to act thoughtlessly in any way that might put Fai into some ridiculous danger.  He couldn't have Fai dueling with every noble who made a critical or snide comment in Fai's hearing.

Then again, Fai probably wouldn't be the one in danger, Ashura thought wryly.  It was more likely that the aristocratic population would be decimated in just a few years, and even the commoners might not be safe.  Not just because Seresians in general could be unruly and outspoken when the mood took them, but also because no one in the kingdom stood a chance against Fai's magic.  Not to mention his rapidly developing martial prowess...

Ashura only said, "Thank you."

"I'm going to do a very good job of keeping you safe," Fai proclaimed.

"Yes, I'm sure you will," Ashura said with concealed amusement and a small, nervous tick under his eye at what Fai's protective statement might portend for everyone.


	11. Chapter 11

Ashura did little more than watch and wait as his court gathered in the Great Hall and his ministers attempted to create order out of chaos.  Splendidly attired lords and ladies milled about, surrounded by their servants.  Trunks and belongings lay jumbled in sprawling disorder across the marble floors.  Naturally, the gentry could not do without their possessions and their own servants, not even for one or two weeks.  Most were bringing entire retinues.  At least no animals need come along.  Translocation magic meant that no horses, carts, livestock, or provisions of food and drink would be required.  Animals for recreation were also not necessary:  the winter season made activities like hunting, racing, and hawking difficult.  Should the weather clear enough for sport, Taishakuten would provide horses, dogs, hawks, and equipment.

Ashura had, in fact, encouraged the excess of his courtiers.  In a show of royal power and consequence, he was taking almost his entire court to Castle Vasara, and had ordered everyone to travel in typical court attire.  He intended to make an indelible impression by arriving in state.  Over two hundred courtiers and court officials were going, and near a thousand servants.  Only those officials, servants, and guards necessary for the maintenance and defense of Luval Castle were to remain.  The officials would take care of any unexpected business, and the servants had instructions to give the castle a thorough cleaning during their betters' absence.

The chief of the Council of Nobles, Lord Vainamoinen, had taken charge of the bedlam.  Bellowing at the top of his lungs, he called out orders to get a party of servants to gather luggage and stand close together.  When the group was in proper position, three hired wizards gestured.  Spell runes glowed, bright light flashed.  The servants and luggage disappeared.

No matter how it was conducted, whether by magical or mundane means, a royal progress was always disruptive.  Both to the court, and to everyone and everything in its path.  Ashura hoped that Syed and Taishakuten had things well in hand on their end, but he imagined that the situation in Vasara was probably just as chaotic as it was presently in Luval.

As soon as the party was gone, Vainamoinen started rounding up another collection of people and baggage to transport.  The chief councilor was doing an admirable job of ordering everyone about.  Without the slightest qualm of guilt, Ashura had dropped everything in Vainamoinen's capable hands and moved off to the side to wait.  He knew better than to get involved.  It would only confuse matters if he also started issuing orders, and despite Vainamoinen's scowls and shouted demands, the chief councillor was clearly enjoying exercising his authority.

Another flash of light, and the next party also disappeared.  The wizards would be exhausted by the time they finished transporting the court.  As Ashura preferred not to wear out his own wizards before his arrival at Taishakuten's stronghold, he had opted to employ extra mages to bear the brunt of the labor.   A number of wizards and high-level magicians capable of translocating multiple people and objects had been enlisted to distribute the load.  Even so, there weren't many present with the necessary power to teleport more than two or three people on their own.  They worked in groups and set up a rotation, so that some could rest while others performed the spells.

Such strong wizards didn't come cheaply, even for royalty.  The payment for their services was extravagant.  While this kind of royal progress was speedier than ordinary, mundane ground travel, it was also quite expensive and drained the magicians involved.  But they would recover with rest and have a new, impressive credential to brag about.  Their remuneration helped the regional economy.  Ashura could display his power and wealth in one of the most ostentatious ways possible in Seresu, as well as travel comfortably and quickly, all while keeping his court wizards in reserve.  As his goals were to journey in safety and convenience, and to impress his subjects in the south, Ashura considered it money well spent.

Besides, he'd get it back in taxes.

While he stood idly, watching everyone else work, Kendappa and Fai came to join him.  Both were dressed even more magnificently than the rest of the court, as befitted their stations.  Fai carried his staff, as well.  He was still quite proud of his new title and self-proclaimed responsibilities, and took his place at Ashura's right hand with the air of the most experienced and trusted liegeman.

Kendappa's eyes flicked down to Fai's blond head, and her lips twitched.  She and Ashura shared an amused glance.  However, she didn't say a word about Fai's pretensions.  Instead, she remarked, "Vainamoinen seems to be enjoying himself."

Ashura nodded.  "He has always enjoyed ordering people about.  His position as the council head suits him admirably."

"It will be entertaining to watch him interact with Ilmarinen."

Ashura gave her a sour look.  Entertaining for her, perhaps.  For him, it had the potential to be an annoyance and a complication, if Vainamoninen and Ilmarinen couldn't manage to behave themselves and be civil to one another. 

Ilmarinen, the Lord of Pohjola, was Vainamoinen's older brother.  As both were opinionated, stubborn, authoritative, and worst of all, competitive with one another, prolonged contact between the two often resulted in a certain amount of discord in their province.  This was all aggravated by the fact that both were competent at governing, and both _wanted_ to govern.  In frustration, Ilmarinen had finally sent his sibling to Luval as Pohjola's official representative.  Always pragmatic, Ashura's grandfather had accepted the young man into the court, and made him a council member to satisfy his inborn appetite for authority.

Years later, Ashura's father ascended the throne and appointed Vainamoinen the council chief.  Like Ashura, those prior kings had appreciated Vainamoinen's excellent administrative capabilities and competence.  They had also appreciated the simple yet instrumental fact that keeping Vainamoinen in Luval also kept the peace in Pohjola.  The brothers and the kings all found this an acceptable solution, and none had ever sought to alter the status quo.

As a consequence of that ridiculous family squabbling, Vainamoinen had become one of the richest and most powerful men in the kingdom, perhaps even more powerful than Ilmarinen.  As the king's most important councilor, his authority certainly carried wider coverage than Ilmarinen's.  He not only looked out for Pohjola's interests, but influenced policy and law for all of Seresu.  Ashura sometimes wondered if that power ever grated on the Lord of Pohjola.  If so, he had never complained, nor even mentioned it in passing.  Ashura hoped that Ilmarinen was content to be the uncontested power in Pohjola, and therefore happy that Vainamonen remained in Luval.

Not that there was anything Ilmarinen could do about it at this point.  Perhaps the Lord of Pohjola was just being realistic.

At present, Ilmarinen was in residence in Taishakuten's court, along with a number of other border lords, all awaiting the king's arrival.  Probably they would all be too busy complaining about Taishakuten and the Arimaspi to cause other trouble.

Kendappa knew all this.  In retaliation to her needling, Ashura said, "It is always interesting.  Ilmarinen will be bringing his family to the midwinter celebrations later this year, so we will be afforded the opportunity to witness yet more intriguing family misbehavior between him and Vainamoinen.  Perhaps you and Sybilla can work together as peacemakers and keep them at bay.  It will be a nice change for you two to have a common goal."  Kendappa and Sybilla's relationship was about as peaceful as Vainamoininen and Illmarinen's, for similarly competitive reasons.

Kendappa tossed her hair and made an unladylike noise.

Fai looked up.  "The wizards are sending the courtiers to Vasara, now."  He pointed to where Vainamoinen had gathered a group of lesser aristocrats.

Bless the child for his straightforward manner—and his timely distraction.  Ashura smiled.  "Yes, it looks like Vainamoinen has made great progress.  This is going more smoothly than I had anticipated."

"I wish I could help out."

"Oh?"

"I want to help transport everyone," Fai said.  He puffed up.  "I bet I could take everyone all at once."

"That would be quite an impressive feat."  Ashura reflected that Fai was not merely indulging in childish boasting and pretention.  Fai's power was extraordinary, and he could certainly carry a large group over a significant distance.  Perhaps even the entire court, as he had claimed.  Ashura remembered his prophetic dream about how Fai would one day carry many Seresians to another world.  Even now, as a child, his power ensured that he could translocate a group of people from Luval to Vasara.

"We could all be in Vasara already," Fai insisted.  "It's boring waiting around like this."

"Well, Fai, you must understand..." Ashura began, and hesitated when Fai gazed at him expectantly.

It was beneath Fai's dignity to act as a common workhorse, especially during a royal progress.  But how to explain that to an eager child?  Particularly one who had not been treated with much dignity during his earliest years, despite his royal birth?  And then, after the horror and abuse that had come later...  It was a miracle that Fai had recovered so well from his terrible past.  A few tantrums here and there, some despondent moodiness and gloom, a bit of brattish behavior, but those things were to be expected.  Really, Fai had turned out to be such a sweet and charming child.  Who could deny him anything?  Ashura hated to disappoint Fai, and as always felt himself weakening.

In the face of his softening attitude, the blue gaze directed at him grew even more earnest.  What an effective weapon that child had honed.  As Ashura gave in, he admitted that Fai had trained him well.  It wouldn't hurt anything to let Fai help out.  Besides, it would be good experience for the youngster to work in concert with other magicians on a task.  Or so Ashura told himself.  "I suppose you could help transport the next group..."

Fai brightened.

There was almost a smile on that round, childish face, Ashura thought.  Someday...  Perhaps someday soon.  Perhaps...

At that moment Vainamoinen came over and bowed.  "We are ready for the royal party now, Your Majesty."

"Everyone else is away?" Ashura asked, surprised.  That has been fast.  He looked around and saw that the Great Hall was almost empty.  All that remained were the Council and court wizards, the family members accompanying them, their closest retainers, and a handful of liveried royal guards to lend consequence to the king's party.

"Yes, Your Majesty.  The wizards report that all is in readiness for your arrival in Vasara's Great Hall."

"Very well.  You may continue."

Vainamoinen nodded at the granted permission, and gestured the hired wizards forward.  He politely requested the last, and most important, courtiers to form up.  His abrupt change in manner—from authoritative to conciliatory—was diverting.  Such high nobles warranted courtesy, especially when the group included the king and royal family.  Vainamoinen, in addition to his other virtues, was a skilled politician and knew better than to ruffle feathers unnecessarily.

Vainamoinen quietly instructed the hired wizards to take the king's party directly to Castle Vasara's Great Hall and how to orient them.  There was always protocol to be observed in these matters.  In this case, Ashura planned for him and his highest courtiers to materialize at the head of the hall, facing out toward Taishakuten's court.  An excessive magical display would be used, with plenty of flashing lights.  It should make for quite a splendid arrival, and had been coordinated with Vainamoinen, Syed, and Lord Taishakuten.  No mention was made of Fai's participation, nor was any help solicited from the child.

Fai bounced in protest.  "But it's the last group!  King Ashura, you said I could help!  Please, please, please?"

Ashura made a show of looking thoughtful.  "Yes, I did say that."

Magic suddenly swirled about Fai, a flurry of spell-runes used to find objects and locations.  "Look, I've already pinpointed the proper destination.  See, I can do it."

Poor Fai.  He wanted to help so badly.  Ashura held up an imperious hand.  "My Lord Vainamoinen, Lord Fai will assist with the translocation spells."

Vainamoinen and the other mundane courtiers gaped.  Kendappa hid her face behind a voluminous sleeve, but Ashura could hear her snicker.  The court wizards smiled among themselves, and their chief, Suhail D Bhagat, exchanged an amused glance with Ashura.  None of the wizards were terribly worried, being familiar with Fai's capabilities.  Ashura also knew they intended to include their own spells in this particular translocation.  The royal family would never be entrusted to hired wizards alone.  The court wizards would handle any deficiencies should Fai's immaturity in some way disturb the spellcasting.

Then Fai upset the apple cart of complacency by announcing, "I can take the whole group all by myself."

Someone gasped.  Several court wizards' eyes widened.  The general mood became uneasy.

Ashura knew Fai's statement was true.  So did Suhail and Kendappa.  Really, so did the rest of the court wizards, even if they had become a bit edgy.  But the idea of allowing one precocious nine-year-old to transport a large party, no matter his strength and natural talent, was more than a little outrageous.

Mischievously, Ashura further disturbed everyone by saying, "Yes, Fai, I believe you can," and repressed a grin as even Suhail stiffened at that idea.

Then Fai chirruped, "Watch this!  Watch this!  You'll be so proud!"  He waved his staff; the jewels in it glittered and the fluorite focus stone flared.

The room brightened with spell runes, blazing and numerous.  The sigils slashed through the air and encircled the courtiers and their guards.  A translocation spell, Ashura realized with alarm.  A powerful one.  The child was really going to attempt it alone!  "Fai—" he began.

A flash of light nearly blinded him, and the sense of stomach-turning, physically impossible rotation told him they were traveling through the hidden dimensions that took one through space to other places, both near and far.  Brilliant colors and shapes burst and faded, and jets of luminescence streamed forward, driving toward an ultimate destination at breathtaking and barely controlled speed.

Then everything stopped abruptly:  The spinning sensations, the kaleidoscopic visions, the feeling of hurtling through the inner spaces.  With a dizzying shock, the world rematerialized as the Great Hall of Castle Vasara.  Golden light from beeswax candles in enormous brass chandeliers replaced the surreal hues of otherwhere.   Tapestries of griffins hung from the walls—Taishakuten was called "The Griffin of the South," and the animal was his family's emblem—and to the side a fire roared in a wide hearth, its heat warming the open spaces and the gathered concourse of gentlefolk.  Elaborate sideboards held pitchers of drink, plates of pastries, and bowls of dried and magically freshened fruits.

Crowds of well-dressed people milled in confusion on the sidelines.  Ashura found himself facing the front of Vasara's Great Hall, looking up at the dais and ornate furniture set there.

Given that the plan had been for the king's party to appear at the head of the Hall, facing out towards the court, it was an unexpected sight.  Fai had not oriented them properly in space.  The child had been too eager to show off, and hadn't paid attention to Vainamoinen's instructions to the other magicians before he whisked everyone away.

Ashura suspected he should be grateful that they hadn't ended up on the roof. 

He swallowed hard to keep down nausea.  Fai had used far too much power, even to transport such a large group.  Probably he had made that mistake in part because he had been so excited, and in part to ensure that he succeeded in teleporting everyone.

Well, that was now in the past.  Ashura put a hand on Fai's shoulder, knowing he should have a talk with the boy about his impetuosity, but unwilling to do so.  Really, it was his own fault for encouraging Fai and teasing his courtiers...

Around him, he heard confused murmurs and exclamations.  His courtiers shifted about, disoriented.  A few complained of vertigo, not surprising given the rocky transitions and headlong hurtle through the hidden spaces.  Even Kendappa looked a little out of sorts.

Ashura took some deep breaths, still attempting to master his own queasiness.  He wasn't given to travel sickness, and assumed his own reaction was due to a combination of the mad journey and the backlash he often felt when Fai used too much power in a spell.  He didn't dwell on it.  The sensations were passing, as they always did.  He hoped Fai didn't normally teleport himself in such a wild fashion, but he suspected his hope was misplaced.  Fai didn't look perturbed at all, his matter-of-fact mien hinting that he must be experienced at such disjointed transits.  The child clearly had a stomach of cast iron.

"That could have gone better," Kendappa murmured quietly into Ashura's ear.

Sudden, inappropriate giddiness rushed through Ashura, replacing the nausea.  He snorted and grinned.  "That's my boy," he whispered back, his heart swelling with pride for Fai's achievement.  The full impact hit him with the force of a blizzard.  What strength Fai had!  Never mind that their arrival had been disorganized and mismanaged; no other wizard could have taken such a large group by himself.  And Fai appeared unaffected, not drained at all.  Truly, no one else could compare, not in the whole world.

It was all he could do to stop himself from grabbing Fai up, hugging him, and gloating to everyone about what an amazing child he had.

Taishakuten's people were also in disarray.  The courtiers and servants lined the walls, having left the center of the Great Hall open to await their king's arrival, and the king had not arrived in the fashion expected.  Confusion reigned as the many gentlefolk gabbled and peered about, located their monarch, and hastily reoriented themselves to offer curtseys and bows.

In the disorder, a lone official had the presence of mind to announce, "His Majesty, the King!" at almost the same time that Taishakuten bellowed, "What in the name of the Thunderer just happened?"

Ashura saw Master Ateas and Lord Syed both hurriedly speak to the Lord of the Southlands, but the poorly synchronized blaring of trumpets drowned out what was said.  The trumpeters finished their ragged salute, looking somewhat bewildered by the irregular proceedings.  The musicians had been too close—or rather, the king's party had materialized too close to them.  Ashura refrained from either grimacing or reaming out his ears.

Lord Suhail was not so restrained.  "I'm too old for this," that worthy wizard grumbled, poking his pinky into his left ear.

Taishakuten gaped at the two wizards with him. "What did you say happened?" he said with incredulity.  Ateas cringed, but Syed grinned from ear to ear.

Ashura resisted the urge to grin back at him.  Fai was such a little prodigy, and one could only accept and embrace all the joy and chaos that fact entailed, or go crazy.  "Nothing happened," Ashura said, raising his voice enough to be heard over the background noise.  "We all arrived safely."  He looked down at Fai, who was clutching his staff nervously.  "I'm very proud of you, Fai.  That was an amazing feat of magic."  Fai straightened and looked pleased, and Ashura decided they could discuss Fai's impetuosity much, much, much later.

At the king's words, conversations all through the Hall stopped dead.  Taishakuten jerked, then came forward, put his hand on his chest, and bowed.  "Your Majesty, forgive me for speaking out of turn," he said, straightening up again.

"It was an understandable breach of protocol," Ashura told him.

"I bid you welcome to Castle Vasara, Majesty, and to all your company.  My people, and myself, are all at your disposal.  I trust your stay here will be everything you expect and desire."

Taishakuten then bowed his head to Fai.  "My lord wizard, I had heard of your elevation.  I offer my congratulations to you.  Your D title is well deserved."

"Thank you," Fai said.

Ashura felt smug.  Today Fai had again demonstrated, in a most public and flamboyant way, his suitability for the D title, and also Ashura's sense in bestowing it.  Many of the greatest magnates in the south had now witnessed for themselves Fai's unmatchable strength.

As he often had before, he wished the gossip and whispers were true, that Fai were truly his by blood.  He could not love Fai more, but oh, how he wished that things were different, that life could be normal, and that Fai could follow him on the throne.


	12. Chapter 12

After everyone had recovered from that rather unorthodox arrival, all went forth as previously planned.  Ashura and his entourage advanced to the head of Vasara's Great Hall.  He, Fai, and Kendappa settled in on the low dais, with Vainamoinen, Suhail, and the highest court officials gathered around them.  The rest of the royal court mingled with Taishakuten's courtiers and the visiting border lords.

Amusingly, instead of sitting down, Fai opted to remain standing at Ashura's right hand, holding his staff and looking quite serious and impressive.  He was so cute, Ashura thought.

There was a bit of ceremony when Lord Taishakuten approached the dais and went down on one knee.  "Your Most Gracious Majesty," he said.  "In honor of your visit to Vasara, I would like to make a presentation to Your Majesty, your esteemed, noble, and charming cousin...and to the most excellent Lord Wizard, the Lord Fai D Fluorite," he added, bowing his head.  "With your permission?"

"Granted," Ashura told him, heartily entertained by all that flummery.

Taishakuten rose, and beckoned three liveried servants forward.  They knelt before the dais, each bearing a large, ornately carved and decorated wooden casket.  The containers were all of different sizes, from a smaller one that looked like a jewel box, to one that was long and deep, and a third shaped like an octagon, several times taller than it was wide.

"Your Majesty," said Taishakuten.  A servant opened the largest casket, revealing a set of four golden chalices, exquisitely crafted and encrusted with rare gems.  Nestled in red velvet, the cups gleamed in the warm light cast by the multitude of beeswax candles overhead in the Hall's enormous chandeliers.

"They're beautiful," said Ashura.  "Thank you, my lord."

"Your Majesty, it would honor me greatly if you would make use of them during today's banquet, and the rest of your visit to Vasara."

"Of course," said Ashura eyeing the four priceless goblets.  Doubtless Taishakuten, as host, imagined he would be drinking from one of them.  Ashura decided that Vainamoinen would get to use the spare.  This visit was not an ordinary progress.  Taishakuten needed to be reminded of his transgressions.  Ashura was unable to resist a little teasing, as well, which would also serve his purposes.  "You must be in dire straits if you are so lacking in silver and plate that you need request a gift be put into immediate service."

Taishakuten's eyes flicked to his.  The Lord of the Southlands looked a little uncomfortable.  If he was also annoyed, he hid it well.  Ashura smiled benignly.

Taishakuten looked down and said, "Forgive my presumption, Majesty.  Of course, if you prefer to reserve the set for a different occasion..."

"My family and I shall make use of your gift today, my lord, as you requested."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Taishakuten said, giving every impression that he felt honored.  "May I continue?"

Ashura waved his hand in acquiescence.

"For the royal lady Kendappa," Taishakuten said, gesturing to the next servant.

The second casket held a magnificent suite of jewelry nestled in black velvet:  earrings, two brooches, a bracelet, two cloak pins, several rings, a diadem, a belt clasp, and a necklet.  All were wrought in gold, and set with diamonds and exceptionally large, fine sapphires.  Kendappa made the proper exclamations of appreciation.

"And now," said Taishakuten, "for the most honorable Lord Wizard, to celebrate his elevation."

The third servant opened the octagonal box.  In lieu of a typical lid, it had two hinged doors, which swung open outward.  Inside rested an extraordinary astronomical clock, a fanciful creation of silver and gold gears, springs, and wheels.  Enameled, gem-set dials showed the procession of the sun, moon, planets, and constellations.  Jewels glinted:  a topaz represented the sun, moonstone for the moon, diamonds for stars and a different colored gem for each of the wandering planets.  There were also dials that marked the procession of day and night, the seasons, the solstices and equinoxes.

In addition to all those marvels, the clock also told time.

Fai's eyes were wide with wonder.  "Thank you, my lord."

"A most handsome gift, my lord," Ashura said.  "And quite appropriate for a new-made Wizard of Wizards."  Surprisingly so, considering it came from Taishakuten, who sometimes boasted that he possessed less comprehension of magicians and their ways than dirt.  While Ashura was certain that claim was an exaggeration, it seemed probable that Taishakuten's chief war wizard, Master Ateas, had advised him.

Taishakuten's presentations made for quite an impressive display of overt bribery.  The Griffon of the South had just demonstrated that he understood the purpose of the royal visit perfectly, and was aware he was not yet back in Ashura's good graces.

Ashura often accepted such gifts from his nobles, and as bribes went, these were quite nice.  Fai's in particular was most pleasing.  Taishakuten was not the first noble to attempt to buy royal favor through Fai, but he was one of the most extravagant.  However, Ashura never made any commitments or promises, no matter how valuable the bribe.  He only ever offered sweet words of thanks and then did as he pleased.  Taishakuten knew that, as well, but probably he hoped to at least soften Ashura's mood.

As long as Taishakuten remained obedient and circumspect, Ashura was inclined to benevolence.  He made a small gesture, and royal retainers collected the gifts and took them away.  "Thank you, my lord, for your generosity."  He nodded a dismissal, not willing to make a public display of forgiveness just yet.

Taishakuten's gaze narrowed, but he bowed gracefully and moved away.  Ashura glanced around the Hall.  No one had missed the implication that Ashura's good graces had not been bought.  Good.  Not only should it serve to remind Taishakuten that he was not wholly back in favor, but it should also warn all the others present to moderate their own behavior, lest their actions also come under royal scrutiny.  Lord Ilmarinen, in particular, looked a little too smug.  Ashura hoped he wouldn't needle at Taishakuten and create more discord.  Something would need to be done to prevent that.  Ashura wanted Taishakuten chastened and obedient, but he didn't want outright warfare among his nobles.  Vainamoinen would need to have a private word with his brother.

The day progressed from gossip and games to feasting, and Taishakuten had outdone himself, sparing no expense.  Extravagant dishes were paraded before the diners, over ten courses, and wine flowed without cease.  A group of musicians strolled through the long rows of trestle tables, taking requests, playing, and moving on.  They refused no request, not even for the more raucous or off-color songs, and received quite a few coins for their efforts.  In between courses, troupes of actors and jugglers provided entertainment.

The banquet lasted several hours, and after the tables had been broken down and cleared away, other court entertainments began.  Musicians played lively tunes, and lords led their ladies out to dance.  Ashura sipped wine from one of his impressive new goblets and watched, pleasantly amused, as Fai danced with Kendappa.  The child had become quite skilled at the activity, despite his resentments.  Kendappa looked as amused as Ashura felt, but she moved gracefully through the paces.

The set ended, and Fai, very much on his dignity, led Kendappa back to the dais.  In the lull, an altercation broke out, Vainamoinen and Ilmarinen having chosen just that moment to engage in some brotherly disharmony.  Both raised their voices to each other, and for some unfathomable reason they were arguing about strawberry tartlets.

The fact that that particular dessert had not been on the menu made the dispute even more bizarre.

Ashura sighed.  This was why his grandfather had separated them so long ago, and why that practice had been continued.  Imagine the mess those two could make of Pohjola!  The province might end up sundered between them over a fight about who got the bigger serving of a dessert.

"There they go," Kendappa said, giggling.  "They're at it much sooner than usual."

"How did it start this time?" Ashura asked, feeling a knee-jerk sense of dread.

"Who knows what provokes these things between them?"  She sipped some wine.  "They've probably just had too much to drink."

"It's too early to be that drunk."  Ashura scowled, his eyes sliding toward Fai.  This was yet another symptom of the underlying tension regarding the present situation.  Too much wine might expose resentments and petty jealousies aggravated by recent events with the Arimaspi.  Fai looked over at the arguing brothers, but didn't appear disturbed.  Fai had seen drunken noblemen at many banquets.

Vainamoinen and Ilmarinen had drawn a crowd of onlookers who were watching as avidly as they might a cockfight.  Taishakuten's sharp gaze also focused upon the dispute.  He was glowering.  Ashura sighed again and got up.  He didn't want Taishakuten to get involved.  Ilmarinen and Taishakuten might to come to blows, which was not impossible given Ilmarinen's enmity towards the Lord of the Southlands.  And despite the sibling rivalry, Vainamoinen would stand by his brother's side in any altercation with another power.  "This is unacceptable.  I haven't even been here a full day, everyone is on edge about the Arimaspi, and they choose now."

"At least it's a silly fight over nothing."  She watched calmly as Ilmarinen's youngest son—actually a grown man of over thirty years—attempted to distract his father and was roughly shoved aside.

"Childish is the adjective you want," Ashura complained.  "I need to put a stop to this.  They can fight in council tomorrow.  Everyone will be expecting it there, and it will at least be about a useful topic."

Fai set aside his small plate of candies, picked up his staff and stood.  "Should I go help you?"

Ashura briefly entertained the notion of having nine-year-old Fai magically banish the two seasoned magnates to glaciers at opposite corners of the kingdom.  That would certainly dislodge both from their high horses and cool them off besides.  "No, Fai.  You stay here and enjoy your treats.  This won't take long."

Ashura made his way to the combatants, and arrived just in time to hear Ilmarinen finish bellowing, "—pompous, arrogant ass, just because you sup from the king's new chalice!"  With that immoderate statement, Ilmarinen slew Ashura's fantasy that he appreciated the current status quo and did not resent his younger brother's power.  Ilmarinen snorted and added spitefully, "That devil Taishakuten's probably poisoned it, anyway, by association if nothing else."

Unfortunately, Taishakuten had also reached them, and he had not missed that last insult.  His eyes widened in outrage, and he looked fit to burst.  He made a fist and opened his mouth to retaliate.

"May I ask what goes forth here?"  The question might have been an ordinary inquiry, had not Ashura also bellowed—simply to get everyone's attention and forestall any increase in hostilities.

None had noticed his arrival.  The combatants had been focused solely upon one another, and their audience focused entirely upon them.  All eyes widened, a few gasps of dismay were heard, and everyone in the vicinity bowed or curtseyed.

Ashura eyed the maligned goblet glinting in Vainamoinen's hand.  Maybe he should have let Taishakuten use it, after all.  "I cannot believe this dispute was instigated over a cup," he remarked with asperity.

Vainamoinen recovered first.  "No, Your Majesty," he said humbly.  "I merely was following your orders to instruct my brother to keep his temper in check.  He took it amiss."  He sneered at Ilmarinen, who bridled.

Ashura almost winced, and vowed Vainamoinen would pay for using him to make that little jab at Ilmarinen.  Ashura had most definitely not phrased his request to Vainamoinen so bluntly, and in particular had not used the word 'instruct.'  "I want _everyone_ to keep their tempers in check," he said, allowing an edge of irritation to enter his tone.  "This current situation is not a comfortable one."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"I suppose a simple request for peace somehow led to a very loud, public, and acrimonious argument about strawberry tartlets?"

Ilmarinen grumbled something about how their old governess had favored his brother, and Vainamoinen's face grew purple with outrage.

This was ridiculous.  Ashura plucked the goblet from Vainamoinen's hand.  "I've heard enough!" he snarled.  "Ilmarinen, you will not insult your host again, and neither of you will continue this childish behavior.  Both of you are banished from the court for the rest of today and this evening.  Go to your chambers, stay away from each other, calm down, and sleep it off.  Have I made myself clear?"

Sometimes, he felt like he was turning into his father.  Usually, though, it was when he was dealing with Fai.  But now he had just sent two important noblemen, both adults in their sixties, to their rooms.  How absurd.

The brothers mumbled agreement, but still slid each other resentful glares.

Ashura frowned at them.  "I'll see you both in council tomorrow," he said.  "I expect you to behave in a civil manner."

Both lords bowed, and in near unison, said, "Yes, Your Majesty."  They departed amid whispers and titters from the watching courtiers.

Ashura beckoned over a guardsman.  "Make sure they do as they were told," he ordered.  "Get as much help as necessary.  And if you need to break their heads in, well..."  It was tempting.  He sighed yet again, and pinched the bridge of his nose.  "Well, do your best not to let it go that far."

Looking amused, the guard bowed and followed Vainamoinen and Ilmarinen from the Hall.

Ashura scowled at the cup in his hand.  Only a small amount of wine remained.  He wondered how many times the cup had been refilled.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Taishakuten said, breaking into Ashura's foul mood.

"I'm sorry this happened here in your home, and I ask you to forgive Ilmarinen for that slanderous and most unfair insult against you.  I will have further words with him."  He should never have trusted Vainamoinen to pacify his brother.  He knew they were competitive, but normally the chief councilor was the soul of diplomacy and tact...  He supposed tension, alcohol, and old, sibling habits had trumped courtesy.  "In the meantime, I would consider it a personal favor if you did not call him out for it."

"For your sake, Majesty, it is forgotten," Taishakuten said graciously.  "In truth, Ilmarinen has been somewhat out of temper since he arrived."

And who was to blame for that? Ashura almost accused aloud.  He knew quite well that his presence—and his army's—were the only reasons Taishakuten was behaving so agreeably, and that Ilmarinen had good reason to be annoyed with Taishakuten.  Instead, Ashura swallowed his irritation and said, "The situation in the south has been difficult of late, my lord, as you well know.  It affects all the border lords—and myself—in a myriad of adverse ways."

Taishakuten inhaled sharply.  "Majesty, I have done everything you have asked—"

"Yes, yes."  Ashura waved the protest away.  "At any rate, once the Arimaspi calm down, Ilmarinen should have no reason for continued complaint.  My lord," he added with a slight bow to conclude the conversation.  He turned and headed back to the dais, feeling Taishakuten's eyes follow him every step of the way.

He dropped into his seat with a disgruntled noise, and handed the disputed goblet to Kendappa.  "Make sure this wretched thing is packed away.  I won't allow it to be used again during this visit."

She dimpled.  "Your Majesty is most discreet and patient."

"Hardly," Ashura sighed.  "I just don't want open warfare in court."

"How excellent that none but your own guards are allowed to carry weapons in court while you are in residence."

Ashura groaned and leaned his head back.  He reached for his own cup, then frowned at the contents.  Hadn't any servants refilled it?  It was almost empty.  He gestured a servant to bring him more wine.

"Majesty?"  A middle-aged lady dressed in gorgeous silks, furs, and jewels curtseyed to him.

"Lady Kylli," he acknowledged.  She was the youngest of Vainamoinen and Ilmarinen's three sisters, and had been married to one of the lesser border lords, Lord Phrynon, in a bid to promote more unity between the two families and expand Pohjola's influence in the south.

"Please forgive my brothers," she said.  "You know they often have such...disagreements.  They truly intend no harm to Your Majesty's realm."

"I know.  I just wish they could stay civil with one another for a few days."

"That would be most unusual, Your Majesty."

"As I have often told him," Kendappa put in.

"Their bad behavior to each other is forgiven, but I cannot have either of them maligning the other lords," said Ashura.  He sipped from his refilled goblet and set it back on the small table to his right.  Fai sat beside it, his staff against his chair.  He leaned on the armrest, looking sleepy-eyed as he watched the adults and munched on more sweets.  How odd.  It wasn't yet late enough that he would be falling asleep; usually he stayed alert far longer than Ashura would prefer.  Perhaps he was worn out from all the day's excitement.

"Yes, Majesty," said Lady Kylli.  "Their behavior tonight was unconscionable, especially towards Lord Taishakuten."  Bluntly, she added, "Ilmarinen was a fool to say what he did."

"He's had too much to drink," Ashura allowed.  "He'll regret it in the morning.  Taishakuten says he will let it pass.  Hopefully, neither will aggravate the situation, and all will be well." 

"Thank you, Your Majesty."  Lady Kylli curtseyed again, and went to rejoin her husband.

"That was really shtupid," said Fai when the lady was out of earshot.  "Lord Vainamoinen usually sheems so wise, but today he was shtupid."

Both Kendappa and Ashura stared at him.  Such blunt criticism of adults was entirely out of character.  Fai's eyes, always bright, looked almost feverish, though his lids were droopy.  Two spots of color highlighted his round cheeks.

"Fai, you must not speak in public that way about any of the lords, and especially not the Lord of the Council," Ashura chided him.  "Reserve such words for me only, and only when in private."

"Yes, Your Mashty," Fai said, slurring the words.

Ashura frowned.  What was wrong with Fai now?  The evening was only beginning, but perhaps he should send Fai to bed already.  He signaled the musicians to begin another dance set so the court might have a distraction from Vainamoinen and Ilmarinen's ridiculous behavior, and then his gaze lighted on his goblet.  Though it had just been refilled while he had been speaking with Lady Kylli, it was again almost empty.  He put two and two together and cast a suspicious look at his son.

"Fai," he asked sweetly, "how much of my wine have you had to drink?"

Fai colored up even more and stared down at his feet, mumbling something incoherent.  He listed to one side, leaning heavily on the arm of his chair.

Kendappa looked shocked, then muffled a giggle.

The little sneak.  Ashura definitely needed to put his child to bed.  "I see," he said mildly.  He stood and picked Fai up, not trusting the boy to walk.

Fai wrapped his arms around Ashura's neck, nestling into the embrace.  "I feel funny," Fai murmured.  "And kind of warm."

"Yes, I'm certain you do," Ashura said with amusement.  "It was very naughty of you to sneak my wine like that.  It wasn't watered at all, Fai."

In response, Fai lifted his head and whistled a few notes.  The goblet levitated and came drifting lazily toward them.  Ashura flicked a finger at it, and it settled back down on the table.

"Don't do that again, child," he said, wondering how many times Fai had already performed that tidy bit of magic while he wasn't paying attention.

Fai dropped his head back onto Ashura's shoulder.  "Okay," he sang.

Ashura would have expected any other tipsy child to giggle or laugh, and half hoped Fai would too, but of course Fai did not.  It seemed that not even an illicit indulgence in wine would cause Fai to smile.  Ashura sighed once more.  While Fai wouldn't smile, a number of others were directing that expression at him, while murmuring in amusement.  Like Vainamoinen and Ilmarinen, he and Fai had attracted an audience, despite the lively measures provided by the musicians.  Even the dancers out on the floor were observing the show, craning their necks in what had to be uncomfortable angles so they could watch.

"Do you need any help?" Kendappa asked brightly, getting to her feet.  Her eyes twinkled.  "Fai is such a handful.  How mischievous of him."

"I believe myself capable of putting one small boy to bed, cousin."  He gave her a mocking bow.  "But thank you for your kind and generous offer."

She grinned.

"Please remain and enjoy yourself, cousin," he said.  "And keep the peace among these louts, if you can.  Perhaps they will behave better for a lovely and modest princess than for their master and liege."

Kendappa openly guffawed at that.

Looking to one side, Ashura spotted Syed D Greenstone.  "Lord Wizard, attend."

Syed came forward.  "Majesty."

The wretch looked just as amused as everyone else.

"Please bring Lord Fai's staff," Ashura ordered, loathe to leave it behind in the Great Hall.  His hands were full holding a tipsy nine-year-old, and he needed someone to bring the staff.  He didn't want to waste attention on levitating or apporting it.  That was what servants were for.  He didn't give it any more thought than that.  Everyone in the country was a servant of the king.  Ashura wasn't willing to let just anyone touch Fai's precious staff, so instead he pressed a D-titled wizard into menial service.

"Of course, Majesty," Syed said with a falsely bland expression.

Fai snuggled in more deeply.  "Thish is nice," he mumbled.  "So warm."  His eyelids drooped and closed.  Then they opened, and once more closed as he valiantly struggled against sleep.

Ashura thought it was nice, too, and so rare now that Fai was growing up and imagining himself too mature for such embraces.  He carried Fai to his chamber and handed the boy off to the waiting maidservants.  "Lord Fai is retiring early.  It seems he's had a touch too much illicit wine this night."  The maids giggled to themselves as they dressed Fai in his nightclothes and settled him into bed.

In the meantime, Ashura took Fai's staff from Syed.  "Thank you, Lord Wizard," he said.  "I wouldn't have wanted to entrust this staff to just anyone."

"It was my pleasure, Your Majesty," Syed replied.  "It's a dangerous tool, more especially for it being Lord Fai's."

Ashura stroked the staff's satiny, golden surface.  The blue jewels glinted in the candlelight.  He hadn't really thought of the potential danger.  He just hadn't wanted an oblivious servant manhandling Fai's staff in what was bound to be a disrespectful way.  "Yes," he murmured, "there was that problem to consider, as well."

Syed cocked a brow, and waited patiently.

"You may go, Syed."  Ashura waited until the wizard had departed before he went into Fai's bedchamber.

The maids stood by Fai's canopied bed, hands folded demurely, and bobbed quick curtseys to him.  He gestured for them to leave, and went to gaze at his son.  Fai appeared to already be asleep.  Ashura leaned the staff against the wall by the bed.  Someone had already set up Fai's fanciful new clock on the bedside table, he noticed.  A fire burned in the carved stone hearth, warming the room.  He pulled up a chair and sat next to Fai's head, and leaned forward to stroke the soft, blond hair.  Fai always looked so innocent and vulnerable when he slept.

At his touch, drowsy blue eyes blinked open.  "That's nice," Fai mumbled, one hand fumbling up to Ashura's.  "I don't feel very good."

Poor Fai.  Ashura had often wondered what he would do the first time he caught Fai drunk.  He had always known it was bound to happen sooner or later.  Fai had so many bad examples at court, and convivial drinking was a common social activity.  One learned to moderate one's drinking or endure the consequences.  Ashura had tentatively planned to just let Fai suffer through the physical misery, knowing that spending a night vomiting into a bucket and then experiencing the joy of a morning hangover would teach the boy a valuable lesson.  But those plans had rested on the expectation that Fai would be somewhat older when he underwent that particular rite of passage.

Fai was only a little boy.  Ashura couldn't let the poor little thing suffer.  There would be another, more appropriate time to administer such a lesson in the years to come.

With a tad of concentration and a few memorized spell runes, he conjured an oft-used glyph.  The detoxification spell glowed softly above his hand.  He always kept one at the ready, and more often than not used them for the purpose of dispelling the effects of overindulgence in alcohol.

He placed it against Fai's tummy, and watched the glyph sink into his son.  "You'll feel better soon, Fai."

"I like that spell.  It feels warm and cozy," Fai murmured.

It was interesting how Fai experienced that spell.  It always felt icy to Ashura, but Fai's magic was much greater, and many things that discomfited Ashura didn't trouble Fai in the least.  Ashura smiled and stroked Fai's hair again.  "It works quickly."  A couple cups of wine would be dispelled in no time.

Fai yawned, and his eyes drifted closed.

Ashura gestured at the candles, and they obligingly went out.  He conjured a small, gray magelight and set it off in a corner near the floor, to provide a tiny illumination that would not disturb the child's sleep.  He pushed back the chair and prepared to get up.

Fai's eyes opened again.  "Stay?"  His voice trembled a tiny bit.

"Of course."  Ashura settled back into his chair.  Between the alcohol and the spell, Fai was undoubtedly feeling ill, a little strange, and probably insecure.  Ashura petted Fai's hair some more.  "Rest, child.  Go to sleep," he said, stroking Fai's cheek.  "I'm right here.  Everything is fine."

Fai caught his hand and laced their fingers together.  "I love you," he mumbled, and in the next breath was sound asleep.

Ashura inhaled deeply, drinking in the sight of his sleeping son, his heart overflowing with tears and joy and so many more emotions than he could ever name.  "I love you, Fai," he said simply, leaving his hand in Fai's.

 

* * *

 

Many thanks to angelcat2865 for helping me break through a writer's block about what childish thing Vainamoinen and Ilmarinen could have been fighting over during the feast.  She suggested a dessert, and it was perfect.


	13. Chapter 13

The night air was cold, so cold, and the land was frozen.  A solid sheet of crystal-clear ice ran out to the distant horizon, thick and barren and unending, so deep no earth could be seen in its fathomless depths, so wide that Ashura was certain it was infinite.  Overhead, stars burned in the velvet dark, frozen in position, never moving, never even twinkling.  Just eye-searing pinpoints of impossibly white light, reflected on the eternal ice.

A soft wind fluttered his hair and whispered into his ears, speaking to him, but he couldn't make out the words...

The moon rose, looming up over the horizon.  Seresu's moon.  Ashura's moon.

The waning moon.

Ashura watched, somber and silent.  The moon rose higher, higher.  With each tiny inch of sky that it climbed, it shrank, from full to gibbous, to quarter, to crescent.  The sickle of light grew thinner and thinner, following the relentless, inevitable lunar cycle.

But when the moon went dark, the cycle would end.  There would be no rebirth, not for Ashura's moon.  For him, the dark of the moon was the dark of all things.  The end was approaching.

Soon that crescent would vanish into the night.  It was a portent of things to come.  Soon Seresu would die.  Soon Ashura would die.  Soon the whole world would vanish like the waning moon.

The slender, graceful crescent shrank even more.  Only a sliver of life remained.

Unmoving, resigned, Ashura watched and waited.  Waited for the dark of the moon.  Waited for the dark of the world.

And then, when there was just the barest hint of curved light glowing in the velvet black sky, the moon ceased waning and froze in place, froze in state.  The cycle stopped, not progressing to its predetermined finale, never slipping into the dark, doomed phase of extinction.

Ashura stared at it without comprehension.  His brows knitted.

A soft, golden haze surrounded the moon, encasing it in an incongruous blend of insubstantial mist and diamond-hard crystal.  Blue light flickered around the edges of that diaphanous, unbreakable cocoon.  The thread-thin crescent was frozen inside, unchanging, unable to move forward, unable to follow its necessary, black path to oblivion.

The wind whispered, insistent, demanding, filling Ashura's ears with a buzz of murmurs, fond and desperate, traumatized and resolute.

The golden haze curled, its tendrils entwining upon themselves, and its center congealed over the frozen moon.  A new crescent formed, filmy and transparent, yet more solid than bedrock, more primal than the gales of a midwinter blizzard...strong, unbearably strong, crushing, and also gentle.  It turned on its side, tips pointed up, crossing and embracing the dying crescent of Ashura's moon.

The uptilted crescent—that moon adorned Fai's staff, it represented Fai's life and uncertain destiny...

"Fai?" Ashura asked, staring up.  What did these symbols mean?

The wind's voice grew clearer, whispers that ghosted over the eternal ice, susurrations that swirled around Ashura, binding him in place with insubstantial currents of air, light and oppressive.  He stood passively in the wind's embrace.  Something about it called to him, and his heart yearned for it.  Yet even if he had wanted to break free, to move, he could not.  The wind bore down on him, encircled him, trapped him in a prison of air and ice.

Across the unending, crystalline landscape, the wind sighed and murmured, and words circled Ashura like the gossamer tendrils that held him tight and yet didn't restrain him at all.

"Love you.  Defend you," the winds whispered.  "Protect you."

"What?" Ashura whispered back.  "What do you mean?"

A thin gust broke away from the circling winds, coiling about itself, knotting deeper into grief as it spun around a core of air.  "Don't die, don't die, don't die," the small whirlwind wept, with the heart of a child.  "Don't hurt me, don't leave me, don't-don't-don't..."  It unraveled and rejoined the rest of the imprisoning currents of swirling air.

"Stop-stop-stop, stop everything, stop you, stop me, don't, don't..." another tiny cyclone sobbed as it formed and dissolved.

"Protect you...protect you forever.  You won't die," the winds promised.  "Never die, never die...  Stop you, stop me, stop it from happening...  Protect..."

The voices faded, but Ashura was still trapped.  He shivered.

The slick, glassy surface under his feet trembled.  He looked down.

Beneath the ice, he lay in repose, slumbering, poised in an unnatural state of non-movement and no-time, almost dead but not-dead.  Dressed in his most formal ceremonial robes, hands clasped across his middle, eyes closed and long hair spread out like a ebon halo, his features composed, forever calm and serene.

His eyes opened, unnaturally golden, and the ice splintered and exploded outwards.

With a gasp, Ashura jerked awake, eyes wide and staring.  He pushed himself up from the bed, back into his chair, panting, blinking in the dim, gray light of a magelight.  He wiped sweat from his face with a shaking hand.  A prophecy, it was a prophecy...  But he couldn't decipher it.  The symbolism was too enigmatic, too cryptic...and his mind shied away from examining it too closely.  He found the dream incomprehensible, even somehow forbidden, and something about it made him want to weep.

"Fai," he murmured, covering his face with his hands.  "Oh, Fai, Fai, what was that?  What's going to happen?"

A groan drew his attention.  Fai's head lay on the pillow next to him, and the child was tossing restlessly.  Ashura stiffened, remembering.  Fai had sneaked too much wine, and gotten drunk.  Ashura had stayed sitting by the bed until the child fell asleep, then he had remained, watching over Fai.  He had planned to leave after a time, but apparently he had also fallen asleep by the fire.

The fire had died down, but a few low flames still flickered among the glowing embers.  Ashura did not rekindle it.  The air was pleasantly warm, and the servants would rebuild the fire if the room cooled off.  He glanced at Fai's new clock, and saw that he had been asleep for only an hour.  The court would not have yet retired.  In fact, he suspected that things had gotten more boisterous, given the generous amounts of wine Taishakuten's servants had been dispensing earlier.

He could go rejoin the courtiers and get drunk, perhaps drunk enough to forget, at least for a time...

Fai moaned again.  Ashura recalled that sometimes Fai could sense his emotions from his more traumatic dreams.  He usually shielded his quarters to prevent the fallout of his night visions from disturbing Fai.  It had been foolish of him to fall asleep here in Fai's bedchamber, but it had been a pleasant, quiet time, watching Fai slumber so innocently.  This latest dream had not been so wild or violent as to waken Fai, but obviously the emotions it had generated had leaked into the psychic atmosphere and distressed the poor child on some level.

"I'm sorry, Fai," he said quietly, and laid a hand on Fai's forehead.  Then he sang a soft lullaby, an ancient song evoking the primal mysticism of Seresu:  the Gods' Sacred Fires, those colorful, translucent lights that rippled in the night and reflected on northern ice fields; mountains that touched the sky; groves of undying trees with deep roots that reached into the heart of the world.

Using songs to cast spells was a known talent, but the skill was specialized and limited to those with some musical ability.  Some magicians, like Seresu's wise women, the Völur, created highly elaborate magic with music.  Fai could whistle spells, which was quite out of the ordinary.  Ashura couldn't whistle a spell, but he sometimes sang one.  He continued singing, infusing the lullaby with his magic.  Tiny spell runes shimmered into existence, twinkling, dancing to the song and circling about Fai's head like motes of glittering stardust.

Fai sighed deeply.  His features relaxed as he settled into a restful sleep.

Ashura moved his hand to stroke Fai's hair.  "I'm sorry," he repeated.  Too often did knowledge of the future taint the joys of the present.  Whatever events his dream portended, they clearly had to do with him and Fai, perhaps colored by his own guilt, grief, and shame.  He certainly had enough of those feelings to spare, even without the occasional reminders of fate that came to him during the terrors of sleep.

He withdrew his hand, and kissed Fai's forehead.

With mingled feelings of regret for the things to come, and satisfaction that at least Fai would sleep soundly this night, Ashura got up and slipped out of Fai's chambers.


	14. Chapter 14

The next morning, Fai woke up bright-eyed and full of energy for the day.

Ashura, on the other hand, suffered a pounding head and a queasy stomach.  After he had left Fai's bedside the previous night, he had returned to the court and gotten extremely drunk, exactly as he had planned, and had wakened miserable and naked in his bed, with an equally naked woman lying next to him.  He couldn't recall her name, but he thought she was the wife of one of Taishakuten's vassals.  He rather hoped they had both had a good time.  He couldn't remember.

Losing himself to drink had been his goal, and he had succeeded.  In retrospect, it seemed foolish.

After he had managed to send Mistress Whoever on her way without insulting her, he had used a detoxification spell in an attempt to ameliorate his hangover.  It didn't work very well, as the spell was designed to remove toxins from the body, not cure the lingering aftereffects after the toxins were almost gone.

He then had a healer mix him a restorative potion, which also resulted in only a partial success.

And so, while Fai bubbled over with breakfast chatter, Ashura gritted his teeth, didn't touch any of his food, and pretended that all was well to the assembled company.

At one point, Kendappa, with her usual, viciously good timing, leaned over and whispered that at least she'd had the sense to use a detoxification spell before she'd gone to bed.  He refused to snarl or curse at her, which only amused her.

Bad enough to have a hangover, and know it was his own fault for being so careless, but that dream last night...  No, he had the hangover because of that dream.  Wine had helped him to forget for a time, but with the morning, memory had returned.  Now he had two yet unfulfilled prophetic dreams to stew over:  last night's unsettling and incomprehensible pastiche of symbols and portents, and the terrifying dream of Fai standing against an avalanche.  That last one, at least, he understood, although he liked it no better.  Worse, he had no idea when either would manifest in the real word.

The morning council meeting went well.  No one was feeling combative, probably because of splitting skulls and queasy stomachs.  A great many of the lords present appeared as uncomfortable as Ashura felt.  The wizards looked as smug as Kendappa, likely for the same reason.  Better yet, neither Vainamoinen, nor Ilmarinen, nor Taishakuten lobbed any angry words at one another.  Their bloodshot eyes betrayed the real reason for the ceasefire.

The council summarized the security measures in place for the king's visit to Spou, verified that all was in readiness, and obtained His Majesty's approval.  His Majesty's head was also splitting, and he was more than happy to get it all over with.  He wanted all his miserable travels in the south done so he could return home and hibernate like a bear.

When everyone had finished thrashing out all the arrangements, Ashura stood and addressed the assembled company.  "My lords, I must tell you that I find this entire situation displeasing.  Most displeasing.  We entrusted you with the governance and management of our new lands.  You are all competent at governing your own territories, and yet the new territories we took from Arimaspea are in disarray.  Some," he said with a direct look at Taishakuten, "were driven to the verge of revolt due to extended mismanagement, until we intervened."

Most of the border lords shifted uncomfortably and cast furtive glances at one another.  Taishakuten, however, didn't have the grace to pretend even a tiny bit of remorse.  Kendappa, Ashura knew, would approve.  He certainly did not, and felt free to vent his displeasure, made sharper by his pounding head and touchy stomach.

"You have all allowed the situation to become so severe that I was required to journey to the south in the midst of deep winter.  Even worse," Ashura chastised them further, "I find that you have taken to fighting amongst yourselves like spoiled children.  You are setting a terrible example for your subordinates.  Furthermore, this behavior will embolden King Skudra and the Arimaspi.  Skudra will most certainly view your discord as a prime opportunity to renew hostilities, should it continue, and might well march on us in an attempt to reclaim our new lands.  Gentlemen, from hence forth this bad behavior _will_ change.  You will work out your differences, and you will govern all the lands in a manner that will be profitable for all, and will keep the peace.  I expect you to behave in accordance with your high stations, or I will be forced to appoint new governors over the Arimaspi lands and increase royal supervision of your own lands and activities."

Now the noble lords looked even more unhappy, and there were a few murmurs.  Ashura dismissed the council by saying, "I trust I am understood.  I expect you will all correct your misbehavior and set matters aright.  Good day, gentlemen."  With that, he got up, turned his back on all his lords, and swept from the chamber.

He heard muted chatter and scuffing of chairs break out behind him as the noble lords and wizards got their things together and took their leave.

Ashura quickened his step, having no desire to suffer through any further discussion with the council or wizards.  Nor did he wish to return to the court, where he would be forced to listen to gossip and insincere flattery made in hopes of gain.  He just needed to withdraw for a time so his headache and stomach could settle.

Perhaps he could go watch Fai practice magic.  The demands of Fai's training were usually a pleasant diversion from the royal court's intrigues.

He didn't escape without encountering a few obstacles.  He had to walk through the Great Hall to get to the more private areas of Vasara, and despite his efforts, a few lords engaged him, each seeking some small crumb of information or favor.  He kept the conversations brief and noncommittal.  That was, he did until he found Lord Matas bowing and begging a moment of his time.  The man was a minor border lord and one of Taishakuten's vassals, he recalled vaguely.

"My lord, it must wait.  I'm quite busy," Ashura said—commanded, really—and made to push through.

"Majesty," the lord obdurately continued, willfully oblivious to royal impatience, "let me present to you my most gracious and loving wife, Lady Darja."

Ashura almost sighed, but his eyes moved to the dark-haired lady, who had until now modestly held back.  When he recognized her, he wanted to groan aloud.  Well, at least now he knew Mistress Whoever's name...

She gave him a deep curtsey, bowing her head.  She glanced up shyly.  "I'm so very honored to make your acquaintance, Your Majesty."

She spoke without any insinuations, secret intimacy, or hints of what had transpired in the night.  In fact, she sounded just as a minor noblewoman should when speaking with her sovereign.  Ashura admired her discretion and her guile.  She was quite the skilled actress.

"My lady," Ashura gave her a small, courteous nod, no more and no less than an introduction to an insignificant but _very_ attractive noblewoman would warrant.  He made a gesture for her to rise.

Lord Matas beamed.  He took his wife's hand and gave her an approving smile.  "We were married during the summer."

"I congratulate you both," Ashura said neutrally.  His eyes did not return to the lady, but in his peripheral vision he could see her continuing to play her role to perfection.

Lady Darja said, "We have a lovely marriage.  I find my lord to be a _most_ accommodating husband."

Lord Matas patted Lady Darja's hand and added, "Yes, my wife and I are quite compatible and understand one another perfectly.  Don't we, my dear?"

"Oh, yes."  And this time she let her expression toward Ashura become slightly, ever-so-slightly, flirtatious.  Nothing obvious, just a bit of the sort of experimental coquetry routinely cast at Ashura by many ladies of his court.  Lord Matas's smile stayed benign and approving.

Ah.  So Lord Matas was _accommodating_ , was he?  Ashura understood what was really being discussed.  He knew well that many a nobleman opened a celebratory bottle of wine when he discovered his wife or daughter was sleeping with a member of the royal family.  Not all, to be sure, but the numbers were notable.  Lord Matas must barely be restraining himself from turning cartwheels.

The long-time mistresses of kings—and their husbands, or other family—were often handsomely compensated.  A single night didn't merit more than a little extra notice, but for a minor border lord such attention was significant.  It seemed that Ashura had found a convenient source of nighttime diversion for this visit to the Southlands, and it wouldn't cost him more than a bit of jewelry and some public recognition of her husband.  Nothing much, just a few words now and again in full view of the court.  It would elevate Lord Mata's prestige and standing to be of interest and account to the king.  A fair exchange, assuming Ashura slept with the lady again.

"I'm pleased you two have such an agreeable marriage," he said, his tone correctly noncommittal.  He was experienced at this particular dance.  He gave them both another small nod and an enigmatic smile.  "Good day, my lord, my lady."

They both lowered their heads while bowing and curtseying.  "Good day, Your Majesty," said Lord Matas.

 


	15. Chapter 15

Ashura managed to get through the crowd without any more uncomfortable encounters.  Surprisingly, when he got to the private chambers, Fai was nowhere to be found.  Perhaps he had gone to a courtyard to practice arms or magic?  But in the midst of deep winter, that would be an uncomfortable practice session.  Ashura cast a quick seek spell, and let the thread of magic pull his consciousness to Fai's location.

Fai was always easy to find.  His magic was so great that it was like a burning sun through that odd connection Ashura shared with the boy.  In but a moment, Ashura detected Fai, and, because he still felt impatient, ill-tempered, and a little sick, he just teleported rather than taking the time to walk, despite the fact that it aggravated his headache.

Fai's startled blue eyes greeted him as he materialized.  Other surprised people hurriedly bowed, but Ashura's attention was on Fai.  The child looked decidedly guilty, and hid his hands behind his back.  Ashura's sharp gaze detected crumbs around Fai's mouth.  The king looked about, and laughed.  They were in Vasara's main bakehouse.

"Of course, I should have known I'd find you in either the kitchen or the bakehouse, Fai," Ashura said, his tone light and teasing.  "So, what treat did you wheedle out of the cooks?"

Sheepishly, Fai pulled his hands forward.  Each greedy fist clutched a small, very dense, brown confection.  "They're ginger cakes," Fai said by way of explanation.

Ginger cakes were a tasty, if heavy, sweet made from honey, bread crumbs, ginger, cinnamon, pepper, and saffron.  Not only were they dense and rich, but they were also so spicy that many claimed that when a person bit into one, the cake bit back.  Ashura was amazed that Fai thought to eat so many.  It was clear from the sticky residue around his lips that he'd already consumed at least one.

"It's a miracle you aren't fat as a styed hog, the way you eat sweets," Ashura laughed again.

"Would you like one?" Fai asked, holding out a cake.  The treat had become lumpy and misshapen from being clutched in Fai's gummy little hand.

While Ashura appreciated the thought, his stomach gave a lurch at the sight.  "No thank you, Fai.  Go ahead and enjoy your cake."  He glanced around.  "I don't see your attendants, Fai.  Don't tell me you are wandering around Castle Vasara all alone," he said reprovingly.

Fai looked anywhere but at Ashura, and mumbled something about how the guards wouldn't want to come to the bakehouse, and neither would the tutors, and anyway he could always use his magic if there were any problems.

"Fai, you know the rules.  If you won't follow them, I will have to send you back to Luval."  Abruptly, Ashura recalled that he and Fai had an audience.  Cooks and bakers and assorted kitchen staff, all no doubt listening avidly while he scolded his son.

Fai looked rebellious.  "You don't have any guards with you, either," he said, and at the defiant tone Ashura decided he needed to take the discussion elsewhere.

"Fai, this is not the place.  Let's go back to my rooms.  Now."  Acutely aware of all the ears storing up gossip, Ashura cast a quick spell that wrapped about them both and swept them to his living quarters.

An abrupt translocation was not capable of distracting Fai when he was in one of his stubborn moods.  "Why do you get to go wherever you want without guards, but I don't?" he demanded before the shimmering magical runes had faded.

"Because I'm an adult and the king, and you are a child and my responsibility," Ashura answered simply.

"That's not fair."  Fai took a huge bite of ginger cake and chewed with his mouth open, displaying the half-masticated brown goo in all its sticky, disgusting glory.

Ashura felt his stomach give another lurch.  "It's not, but those are the rules.  Things will be different when you are an adult."

"You always say that."

"That's because it is true.  Now chew with your mouth closed."

Fai did not.  Instead, he smacked loudly.  He made a face, displaying teeth coated in brown slime, and stamped his foot.  "You let me teleport around the country.  Why is it different here?"

Actually, that was a good and reasonable question, despite the impolite behavior that accompanied it.  Ashura became aware of his own hypocrisy.  "I allow you to teleport because I trust you to have some common sense.  If I ever discover that you have traveled alone to a troubled area, like here in the Southlands, or worse, the new Arimaspi lands, I will revoke your privileges.  Fai, it's dangerous for you here."

"If it's so dangerous, why did you bring me?"

Ashura was not willing to explain his paranoia about Fai's future encounter with an avalanche.  It wasn't logical, anyway.  Ashura well knew that he had only brought Fai along out of misplaced fear and dread, and that he couldn't prevent Fai from meeting that avalanche, nor even affect the outcome when the event finally occurred.  "I brought you because you are now a very important nobleman and wizard in the royal court, and I trusted that you would take your responsibilities seriously.  D-titled wizards do not create scandal or fuss without good reason, and the illicit acquisition of ginger cakes is not a good reason."

Fai's mouth hung open for a moment, then he recovered and swallowed the disgusting ginger cake mess in his mouth.  "Oh, I forgot."

"Yes, you did."  And that wasn't fair, either.  Fai was just a little boy, and really couldn't be expected to behave like an adult.  Nonetheless, perhaps he'd take better care in the future if he remembered his new consequence and duties.

Fai's expression grew sly.  "I'm your protector now.  You even confirmed it in public when you gave me the D title and made me your Royal Wizard.  I should be accompanying you everywhere.  I can go places where the regular guards can't follow.  There's nowhere I can't go."

Oh, dear.  Ashura knew he'd walked right into that.  Normally, he thought Fai's assumption of that role was cute, but now...  After his most recent dream, the idea of Fai protecting him from anything at all was terrifying.  His mind skittered, flailing about for a way to convince Fai that he didn't really need that much defending.

Not that he could ever stop Fai from doing anything.  Fai was simply too strong.  The only real leverages Ashura had over Fai were love, the usual authority that adults had over children, his position as king, and more advanced magical training and sophistication.  Those were thin reeds to lean against in the face of the gale force of Fai's raw power, but so far they had sufficed.  Despite the fact that Fai could knock Ashura aside anytime he felt like it and behave as he pleased, Ashura never feared that he would do so.  It simply wasn't in Fai's nature.  Nonetheless, supervising Fai and enforcing rules over him sometimes made for a complicated balancing act of emotional appeals, reminders of duty and responsibility, and bribery.  Fortunately, Fai did not often rebel—at least, not too far.

"In fact," Fai continued, "I should have gone to this morning's council meeting with you, too."

Ashura's knee-jerk reaction to that was to retort that little boys had no place at royal council meetings.  He softened it by saying, "Not until you are older and more experienced."  It was his standard response to such statements from Fai, and the truth, besides.

Fai pouted, which was also a standard response.  "But I'm definitely going to Spou with you tomorrow," he said stubbornly.

Spou...  Ashura didn't want to leave Fai in Vasara, so the only choices were sending him back to Luval or taking him to Spou.  And he still had the irrational urge to keep Fai close by him.  That avalanche...

"Will there be another big party at Spou Castle, like there was here yesterday?" Fai asked.

"I hope not," Ashura answered automatically.  Yesterday's had been far too eventful, and the morning aftereffects weren't enjoyable, either.

"Oh."  Fai sounded disappointed.

"We will only be there for one or two nights, Fai.  I will address the town in front of the Guild Hall, and receive a few public oaths of loyalty and fealty."  More than a few, actually.  Ashura planned to get oaths from the mayor, aldermen, guild masters, and any other town officials who had survived Taishakuten's purges.  He was certain they wouldn't be worth the air it took to speak them, but at least public promises would be made.  He also intended to have all the Seresian border lords with him take oaths, especially Taishakuten, in front of the town.  "Assuming all goes well, we will then return to Vasara, and the next day to Luval.  I never intended this trip to be a long, drawn out affair."

There would be plenty of protection during the visit to Spou.  Had not Ashura reviewed and approved the preparations and security precautions himself?  Additionally, he had troops already in residence at Spou Castle.  He intended to use magical defenses, as well.  The court wizards needed to earn their keep on occasion.  Besides, the conquered Arimaspi not only hated him, they were also terrified of him.  The visit should be perfectly safe.  Last night's dream couldn't possibly be related to the visit to Spou.

"Now, may I assume that all is settled?" Ashura asked.  "If you do your duty as Royal Wizard, and promise to follow the rules, I will not send you back to Luval.  Agreed?"

Fai nodded.  "I agree.  I'm sorry for forgetting my responsibilities."

"But the lure of ginger cakes was just a little too strong," Ashura teased, smiling to show all was forgiven.

Unlike many of Ashura's noblemen, Fai at least had the grace to look embarrassed.

"Very well," Ashura said.  "I didn't originally search you out just to chastise you, Fai, and I'm sorry I had to do so."

"Why did you come find me?"  Fai indulged in another of his misshapen ginger cakes.  This time he chewed more politely, for which Ashura's touchy stomach was grateful.

"I had thought to help you practice your magic."  Ashura paused and grinned.  "But instead I found you avoiding your studies in favor of sweets."

As always, at the mention of magic Fai brightened.  Even though he never smiled, somehow his countenance lit up the room.  "I want to learn a new spell!" he said excitedly.  "I haven't learned a new one all week.  Please, I want to do something new."

"Very well."  Ashura found Fai's enthusiasm infectious, and immediately agreed.  All remnants of his previous disturbed mood vanished in the suddenly warm and welcoming atmosphere.  "Did you have something in mind?"

"I want to make a spell to fly!" Fai said.  "Like a bird!"

"Fly like a bird?"  Ashura raised his brows.  "That would be a most excellent spell.  I've never heard of anyone who could cast such a spell upon themselves.  I can't even do that."

"Why not?  Magicians can levitate other things.  They can even levitate themselves and other people."

"They can only levitate themselves for short distances," Ashura corrected him.  "Levitation and true flight are different."

Fai scowled.  "That makes no sense."

Ashura struggled to explain.  "While it is possible to levitate oneself, it is much different than soaring with the birds unaided.  It's a matter of will and observation.  You direct an object you are levitating and moving about by observing it and concentrating on it, but it is much harder to step outside yourself to observe yourself.  Not impossible, but it requires enormous concentration.  One tiny break in focus, and the spell fails.  That could be catastrophic for the magician.  It's why you never see one levitate himself more than a few feet, unless there is dire necessity." Or unless the wizard was both stupid and in such a hurry that he couldn't be bothered to use stairs or ladders, Ashura thought sourly.

Fai's eyes widened.  "Oh, so even if you could levitate into the sky, the minute you tried to move about you would have to think about where you were going, lose some control over the magic around your body, and that's how your concentration would break?"

"Yes, that's it.  Essentially."  Ashura deliberately left out some details.  It was possible to direct magic at other people or objects while levitating oneself, if the levitation spell was so practiced and ingrained so well that it didn't require absolute and rigid concentration.  Ashura could do it, when necessary, but he didn't think Fai needed to know about that yet.  Fai might attempt to leap ahead too far, before he mastered the self-levitation spell.  One thing at a time...

"I've seen you levitate."

"It can sometimes be useful for reaching objects on high shelves," Ashura admitted with a smile.  "However, I would never consider doing it to great heights unless it was a life or death situation."  He had even done it over battlefields, but only rarely, and only when the risk had been worth the potential victory.  Not only could he fall if his concentration broke, but while floating in mid-air he made a most excellent target for arrows, spears, catapults, and magical attacks.  Fai didn't need to know about that hazard yet, though.  "It is foolishly dangerous in most circumstances.  Imagine levitating out over the castle walls, and losing concentration."

"Luval Mountain levitates."

"Luval is filled with the most immense concentration of magic in the whole world.  Besides that, no one has ever tried to move it."  Ashura pondered that.  Fai was the most powerful magician in the entire world, and in fact, had almost moved Luval Mountain when he had first arrived in Seresu—if nearly crashing it could be compared to a benign statement like "almost moving" it.  Ashura should not fill Fai's head with "cannots" and "should nots."  That would limit the child entirely too much.  Fai might do unimaginable things one day, but not if he believed those things were impossible.

"It's good that you are questioning this," he said slowly.  "Just because I cannot fly like a bird doesn't mean that you cannot.  Your power is of a different order entirely.  You should take the time to study and give thought to how you would do it."

"You think I could really do it?"

"Perhaps someday.  At any rate, it will be good exercise for you.  For now, I suppose I can first teach you to levitate yourself."  It occurred to Ashura that, armed with this knowledge and ability, Fai might be able to avoid that future avalanche.  Fai was strong and talented, and he had quick reflexes.  The self-levitation spell might well save him from injury, or even...

No, Fai wouldn't die in an avalanche.  He couldn't.  The other potential paths to the long future would fail should Fai die.  Ashura shoved his terror back into a dark corner of his mind.

Fai bounced up and down.  "Show me the spell to levitate."

"First you must promise me you will not abuse it.  You must not use it frivolously, Fai," Ashura said sternly.  "Unless you fear for your life, you must not levitate yourself in any environment where it is not safe, and never to a greater height than you could safely fall from without hurting yourself."

"Okay!  I promise," Fai agreed.

"I'm serious, Fai.  I don't want to discover you have so much as sprained an ankle doing this."  That might be a bit extreme, given that Fai could easily suffer a simple injury like that just from his martial training or outdoor games like sledding, riding, skating, or skiing.  There were so many ordinary ways Fai might hurt himself. However, Ashura was trying to impress him with the seriousness of the spell and its risks.

"I promise, I promise!  Now, please-please-please?"

"Very well."  Ashura hesitated, staring at Fai's gummy hands.  "I think you should clean up, first."

Fai readily agreed, and disappeared into the bath chamber.  Ashura's quarters were the largest and finest in Vasara. Normally they were Taishakuten's, but that worthy had given them up for the duration of the king's visit.  As the best apartments in the castle, they boasted a private bath just off the bedchamber.  Ashura heard water splashing from the pitcher into the basin.  Fai emerged, too soon to have done a thorough job, but superficially clean.  It would do.

"Better?" Fai asked, spreading his arms wide for inspection.  The scent of ginger still lingered about him, but at least all the smears of brown goo were gone from his face and hands.

"Better," Ashura confirmed.  As Fai moved to stand across from him, he began the lecture.  "Now, to begin.  For this spell, you will cast the primary runes in yellow."

"The color of Air," Fai added.

"The color for this activity, at any rate.  There are actually a number of scales of colors for the different elements, just as there are differing spirits, pantacles, and animals that may be associated with them, depending on usage.  In other systems, Air is green or other colors, but we will be using yellow for this spell."

"Okay."

"You will also need runes in green, for Earth.  Again, Earth's colors vary by system and usage, but this time we will use green.  It is useful and convenient that green can be used for both Earth and Air, depending upon the system of correspondences applied."

"Why?"

"Because the two elements need to interact, and the fact that they have some overlapping affinities makes it easier," Ashura explained.  "The spell was designed to take advantage of the overlap.  You will use the Air runes to remove the influence of the Earth runes, and so they will dominate your spell."

Fai frowned, concentrating.  "So you are cutting your connection to Earth, and that allows you to rise?  I don't need to do that when I levitate other objects."

"That is because you focus directly upon them, and use your magic as an extension of yourself, like your hands.  Can you use your hands to pick yourself off the ground, as you would a pillow or some trinket?"

Comically, Fai tried doing just that.  More than once.  He took hold of his other hand, raised both over his head, and tugged hard.  After several tries, he grabbed his collar and tugged upwards again.  Finally, he tugged and jumped.  "There!" he said, but he was scowling.

Ashura laughed.  "Fai, you know that's cheating."

Fai made a face.

Ashura continued, "With this spell, you do not entirely sever your connection to Earth.  You do not want to lose control over your movements or float away, after all.  A connection to Earth keeps you stable and allows you to control your ascent.  You only remove enough of the connection to rise as far as you desire.  I will demonstrate."  Using his index finger, he drew out a complex series of bright green runes, formed them into a three dimensional glyph, and left them hovering in the air before him.  "These are the Earth runes.  They represent your ties to the ground, to Earth."  He drew another set of runes, this time in yellow.  They were larger and glowed brighter than the green ones.  He swept his arms, arranging his runes into the correct pattern, interweaving them with the Earth runes.  "The yellow runes are Air.  Air and Earth are in contact any place where other elements do not separate them.  There will be no other elements used in this spell."

Fai's eyes widened.  "That's very complicated."

"It is.  It gets even more complicated.  That is why concentration is of the utmost importance, and why this spell can be so dangerous.  It is easy to lose concentration."  Even as he spoke, his runes fell out of their patterns and faded.  "As you can see," Ashura said ruefully.  "I wasn't paying enough attention to them.  However, once the spell is woven and stable, it becomes easier to maintain.  The construction phase is the worst.  Now, let me finish without interruption, then you can try."

In silence, Ashura created his sets of runes again.  He pushed power into them and, with hand gestures, stretched the elaborate patterns they formed.  He moved them about until they completely surrounded his body.  Then he set the runes in motion.  The green Earth runes sank downward, toward his feet, and the yellow Air runes circled him in many different directions.  And then, at his mental command, the yellow runes near the ground undercut the green, putting a layer of glowing yellow between his feet and the floor.

He levitated, willing the yellow patterns under his soles to intensify and grow upwards.  The Air runes stayed connected to the green.  Tendrils of green connected him to the floor, but much less green touched him than when he had been earthbound.  Branching yellow filaments reached out and upwards, pulling him into the air.  After he had risen about six inches, he relaxed.  The runes and elemental tendrils all winked out at once, and he dropped back to the ground.

"Wow," said Fai.  "I've never seen you do it with the runes so big and bright before.  Usually, they're smaller, and it doesn't look so hard."

"No, usually I only visualize the runes in my mind," Ashura said.  "Most cannot see them in that case, but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you have.  You have a natural talent for seeing my magic, even when I want to keep it hidden," he added with a crooked smile.  "However, when learning, or when performing more than a trivial levitation, as I just did, it is important to know exactly what you are doing.  In fact, the times I have performed a greater feat of levitation, the runes have always been visible to all, both magicians and non-magicians."  The last time he had levitated over a battlefield, his magic had been as blinding and hellish as a raging inferno, the connections to Earth and Air crackling like lightning bolts.  Fortunately, his troops had kept him covered while he blasted the enemy, as he had had no concentration to spare for his personal defenses.  It had been a dangerous stunt, and in retrospect, extremely foolish.  Had he died that day, Fai's curse would have destroyed the entire world.  Nevertheless, he had succeeded, and it had given his army a crucial advantage over the Arimaspi.

In fact, it had won them Spou.  How ironic.

"Now, Fai, I want you to try."

Fai looked intent.  "The Earth runes first, right?"

"Yes.  We will work them together.  Now, with me, draw out the first five Earth runes."

Frowning in concentration, Fai drew the runes in the air with his finger, copying Ashura's hand movements exactly.

Ashura realized that his headache and upset stomach were much better.  Working with Fai was always a finer restorative than any tonic.


	16. Chapter 16

Ashura was a little disappointed when Fai didn't manage to levitate himself during that first lesson. Fai learned most magic so easily that Ashura had almost believed Fai might pull it off. However, the spell was extraordinarily complicated and required enormous amounts of concentration, especially while learning it. Fai had some trouble just generating the runes, which needed detail and subtlety, so Ashura insisted he use his staff to draw them. The fluorite staff channeled and refined Fai's power and allowed more sophistication, fine resolution, and better honed manipulation. Fai easily memorized spells, but even so this one was beyond his current level of skill and training.

Ashura's hopes that Fai might use this spell to avoid the future avalanche faded, but they didn't disappear entirely. Fai was a prodigy at magic. With dedicated practice, he might yet learn to levitate himself before that fearful event occurred.

Later that evening, Suhail found a private moment to chide him for teaching a young boy like Fai such an advanced technique so early in his training. "It is true that the growth of his power has been nothing short of amazing," Suhail said, "and as yet that growth shows no sign of abating. It is unprecedented. However, don't you think you are pushing him too hard? While he has more than enough raw power, he has not yet the skill and control for that spell."

Ashura only said, "Fai asked to learn it. It is a special treat for him. Even if he cannot perform it yet, it will be good practice for him, and also make all his other magic lessons seem easier." Ashura then dismissed Suhail curtly and walked away, resolving to practice the self-levitation spell with Fai as often as practical. After all, knowledge of it might well save Fai someday, if not from the coming avalanche, then from some other danger. Fai's future as an adult would be full of alarms and danger, and Ashura was determined to provide Fai with as many advantages as possible. Academic skills and knowledge, languages, the fine arts, various types of magic, prowess in both armed and unarmed combat, strategy and tactics, subterfuge, the delicate arts of diplomacy, negotiation, and giving deliberate, calculated offense—Fai would become proficient, even expert, at all those and more if Ashura got his way.

Though he would probably never occupy a throne, Fai's training and education were not unlike that of a crown prince being groomed for kingship. Ashura chuckled bitterly at the thought.

Very early the next morning, most of the court moved to Spou Castle. Ashura took all the border lords that had been at Vasara, as well as the most important members of his own court. He included a few extras for his own convenience and amusement, like Lady Darja and her husband. His hired wizards again took care of the translocations. Fai was not allowed to help, and the move went smoothly.

All there was in readiness. Ashura didn't want to stay more than one or two nights at Spou, so a mere two hours later, his retinue was again on the move, this time to Spou Town. Several troops of men-at-arms had already departed to prepare the town for his arrival. Given the recent turmoil in Spou, extra precautions had been taken. He instructed every mage to set up magical defenses, and set his own and Fai's, himself.

As his intention was to impress and intimidate, his entourage travelled by conventional, if ostentatious, means, so they could be seen: by foot, horseback, and for the older members of the court and those ladies who enjoyed showing off their delicate refinement, horse-drawn sleighs. Drummers, trumpeters, pikemen, and royal standard bearers led the column, marching through the snow and ice with dignity. Behind them came more men-at-arms. After that rode the highest court officials, then half the court wizards, then Ashura, Fai, and Kendappa. They were followed by the rest of the court wizards, more nobles, the sleighs, and another three troops of soldiers.

As seemed to happen quite often of late, the weather had cooperated with Ashura's plans. The morning had begun overcast with gray clouds and a few light flurries of snowflakes, but as Ashura's retinue got underway patches of the sky cleared. The sun shone through the blue areas to light the sparkling white landscape. He looked up into the heavens during one particularly bright interval. Through the break in the clouds, a quarter moon was visible, faded like a ghost against the brilliant, sunlit blue.

The last quarter of the waning moon.

Ashura shivered and pulled his cloak tighter about himself with his free hand. His mount trod steadily forward, blowing steam from its nostrils. Banners and pennants fluttered, and the cadence of the drummers continued, relentlessly moving the column forward.

It was just the moon, Ashura told himself. It waned every month, just as it waxed, as it became full and as it grew dark. It was the normal progression of the lunar cycle. Still, he couldn't help but experience an ominous frisson run down his spine, and his last dream came back to haunt him. Why hadn't he paid attention to the astrological charts, to the lunar phases? He should have scheduled this trip to coincide with a full or waxing moon.

Trumpets blared as the town's walls came into view. They had been rebuilt after the war, and were manned by occupying Seresian forces. The gates were open, wide and welcoming. But while the Seresian occupiers were welcoming, Ashura knew the native residents of the city were not.

The trumpets blared again as the royal entourage passed through the gates and traveled through the streets. Arimaspi commoners and Seresian soldiers lined the way. The vast majority of the Arimaspi looked sullen, fearful, and bitter, but that was to be expected. Some of the newly maimed had also come. Their missing ears, noses, eyes, and limbs, many still bandaged, gave graphic evidence of Taishakuten's handiwork. Ashura winced inside when he saw a little boy about Fai's age with only one eye. Another child had no eyes or ears. Those victims who had not been blinded looked on with hostility.

Ashura kept up his outward, serene composure, but a bland façade couldn't banish his inner fears for Fai. He had previously had prophetic dreams of Fai as an adult—an adult who was missing an eye...

It was a large turnout. Most had come because they hadn't dared to be absent. Taishakuten's excesses were still fresh in all minds, the physical wounds yet unhealed. Ashura considered what he was seeing and wondered if his plans to merge the Arimaspi into Seresu were just wild, naïve dreams, as Kendappa believed. Mending the recent damage, on top of the deep-bred traditional hatreds, would take years, if it were possible at all.

Ashura cast a quick glance at Fai, again wishing he'd never brought the child to the Southlands. Certainly he shouldn't have brought Fai along to this assembly. But Fai didn't look very disturbed. He was watching the guards ahead of him, rather than the crowd. In fact, he seemed to be avoiding looking at the Arimaspi. Perhaps he hadn't noticed the wounded people. Then again, maybe he had. Ashura recalled that Fai had seen similar horrors in Valeria, especially after he had been imprisoned in the timeless pit of corpses. Perhaps Fai wasn't looking at the bystanders because he didn't want to see hatred directed at him again. Fai also had learned to hate the Arimaspi early in his time in Seresu, and he knew the purpose of this visit, and the reasons for it. No matter. Ashura still wished Fai were back in Luval.

Surprisingly, when he again scanned the crowd, Ashura thought some of the Arimaspi did look happy, or at least hopeful. Those few gave him food for thought. After the war, he had not only established martial law over the conquered lands, but had replaced all Skudra's laws with Seresian. He had especially eliminated the repressive laws over mage-born Arimaspi. Perhaps the hopeful ones in the crowd were secret mages themselves, or had mage-born relatives. The new laws meant they did not need to fear that children who displayed even trivial magics would be taken from them, or killed should they prove too powerful. Reason enough to give a small minority hope, he supposed. It was interesting. Most Arimaspi would have smothered a mage-child on orders from their leaders, but it seemed a few might disagree. The vast majority of the conquered Arimaspi, of course, had been rabid when the changes had been made, and probably still were in private—and so martial law would continue for as long as necessary.

All was prepared in the town square, and, like the streets, it was full of unhappy Arimaspi commoners. A large, wooden platform had been erected before the guild hall and hung with royal banners. Guild halls were always a central feature of cities and townships, and provided much more than a place for the guilds to meet. They also served as town halls for government, a place for important celebrations and feasts and other events, and in general were the center around which much of the community revolved. Large gatherings and important state occasions such as this often took place before guild halls.

Stairs led up one side of the stage, and a great chair sat in its center. A long carpet of blue, white, and black all trimmed with gold ran the length. The area around the platform was cordoned off and guarded by armed Seresian soldiers. The town's dignitaries, resplendent in fine clothes with their badges and decorations of office, waited at the very forefront of the crowd.

Seresian men-at-arms opened a way through the crowd for Ashura's procession. The people had been prepared, or probably threatened, with his arrival. All knelt as he passed by. Most of the soldiers in his column dispersed to surround the town square. A troop of them stayed with him and took up positions around the platform. With great ceremony, he dismounted. Trailed by Fai, Kendappa, and the most important court officials and wizards, he ascended the steps. The rest of the nobles and wizards stayed at the base of the stage.

He took his place standing before the throne, and waited while everyone arranged themselves on both sides of him. Fai stood on his right, Kendappa on his left. He took a long moment to survey the hostile crowd, raking his eyes over them. Then he raised one arm, and, with an ostentatious display of multihued, flaming magic, he apported his wizard's staff into his waiting hand. When his staff had fully materialized, the other wizards followed suit, calling their own staves to them.

Still on their knees, the people of Spou murmured nervously, and many made superstitious hand gestures to ward off evil. Good. He wanted them to stay nervous. They hated him, but they were also afraid of him, so he would use that fear for his own purposes. With luck, the flashy displays and the fear would make them more docile. Docility and fear would lead to obedience, and over time that obedience should become a habit, even after the sharp bite of fear dulled. Peace, or at least some calm, would be better for everyone, both Seresians and Arimaspi, in the long term and the short.

At Ashura's mental command, the large fluorite crystal in his staff flared with white light. It blazed like the sun, capturing the crowd's attention, then dimmed to a soft glow.

"People of Spou," he addressed the now silent crowd, "you have transgressed most grievously against your king and your noble masters—"

"You aren't our king!" a man shouted from somewhere in the crowd. People muttered to one another; most looked alarmed and frightened by that declaration, casting terrified looks at Ashura, the men-at-arms, and at each other. Seresian soldiers pushed their way through the masses of humanity, but could not locate the source of the defiant shout.

Ashura did not let the interruption deter him. He acted as though no one had spoken at all, and continued, "For your misdeeds of rebellion and subversion, faithless wretches such as you deserve neither consideration nor kindness. Nonetheless, the fault is not yours alone. Your overlords, who have also transgressed by their extreme behavior, have begged and been granted pardon, and have freely promised future obedience. They will give public oaths of such today, in full view of all assembled. I now offer you the same mercy."

Beside him, he heard Kendappa make a small, disgusted noise. He cast a sidelong glance at her, but her expression was impassive as she played her role to the hilt. Fai gripped his staff, but he was frowning. Ashura again scanned the crowd. The Arimaspi appeared to have calmed, and now many looked, if not trusting, at least somewhat hopeful. They wanted to believe his promises. He rather hoped he could keep his end of the bargain, but it all depended on their future behavior.

While his eyes surveyed the crowd in the town square, he also extended magical senses to get as much information about the mood as possible. Hope and quiet fear, as expected, but also something else, a shimmer that was both near and far, something strange yet familiar that slid aside when he tried to focus on it. It was like oil and quicksilver, or the faint, ephemeral shadows cast by starlight on a clear, moonless night.

He sent a message on a quick thread of magic to Suhail, warning him to have the wizards watch for some magical chicanery. He had set a number of esoteric defenses, so he wasn't worried. In fact, he rather hoped there would be a small disruption. He thought that perhaps some use could be made of such.

Behaving as though he had noticed nothing untoward in the psychic atmosphere, he went on with his offer to the Arimaspi, "People of Spou, freely swear to me that you will be obedient subjects and citizens of Seresu, and there shall be peace between us. Past transgressions shall not be forgotten, but they will be forgiven, and we shall begin anew—"

"Lying filth!" the enraged voice shouted again, echoing around the entire town square. "Die, Witch King!"

People in the front row shrieked as they were shoved roughly aside by an unseen force. A gust of unearthly wind whooshed forward and blew upwards. Silver flashed at its core.

"NO!" Fai screamed. His staff arced toward the disturbance, blinding power raging through the fluorite focus stone. The earth rattled with the sudden eruption of eldritch energy, shaking the stage and the buildings, and the air itself swirled with a short burst of mini-whirlwinds. Ashura gasped as the impact of Fai's unrestrained power boomed through their odd connection and struck deep inside him, but he held himself upright.

Gigantic fiery claws, like the talons of a monstrous raptor, thrust forward from Fai's staff, capturing the unnatural wind in their razor-sharp grasp and driving it back. A cry of shock and pain rose from within the talons, audible even over the panicked noises of the crowd. The Arimaspi people tried to bolt, but weapons from the soldiers and magic from the wizards kept all entrapped in the town square.

Fai tightened his grip on his staff, and the great talons tightened on their prey. Magic flared through the claws and the invisibility spell vanished, revealing a man. An Arimaspi commoner by his dress, clutching a steel knife in one calloused hand. The man cried out again as Fai snarled and the magical construct gripped him tighter. Blood showed where the sharp predator-nails had pierced his skin.

"Fai!" Ashura shouted at his son. "Fai, that's enough! Don't kill him! Fai, stop it now!"

"No!" Fai yelled back. His blue eyes crackled with eldritch power, but his expression was one of absolute horror. "He tried to hurt you! He wanted to kill you!"

"Fai, stop. I need him alive. It's all right." Ashura knelt down and took hold of Fai's shoulders, looking the child in the eye and hoping to break his concentration. "Fai, you saw me set defensive shields before we left Spou Castle, remember? I am neither so trusting nor so vulnerable as you fear."

The fierce light in Fai's eyes wavered. "I'm protecting you, I am. I'm doing my job; I'm your protector..."

"You did," Ashura confirmed, swallowing the fading echoes of nausea and trying to calm Fai. "You did everything you should have done. You are the king's shield, and you performed your duties perfectly." A little too well, in fact, but Fai often got carried away by his emotions. "I am so very proud of you. But now, as your king, I order you to release that man."

"But he'll—"

"He will do nothing," Ashura said forcefully. "See, the men-at-arms and court wizards have matters well in hand." He gestured toward the would-be assassin. Fai's eyes followed.

The man hung in the claw's grip. Lord Taishakuten and the soldiers had their weapons trained on him, and the wizards were already weaving spells of subjugation about him. The crowd, unable to escape the town square, had drawn back, forming a circle about the spectacle. Fai watched for a moment, waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, he relaxed. "Good," he whispered, and banished his raptor claw. The man fell to earth, and Ashura's troops moved in to contain him.

Relieved and lightheaded at the cessation of Fai's power, Ashura stood and faced forward. "Bring that man to me," he commanded, and his magic carried his voice to everyone present. The crowd parted, opening a path for the soldiers and wizards to escort the prisoner to the stage. Ashura beckoned, and his troops dragged the failed assassin up onto the platform, then forced him to kneel before the king. Taishakuten stood behind the man, sword bared and ready.

Suhail presented Ashura with the knife and a small, intricately crafted charm of high-grade opal. "He was carrying these, Your Majesty."

The knife was just a common weapon; the fool had obviously underestimated Ashura's ability to shield himself. But the opal... Ashura took the charm and held it up in the light. "Interesting," he said, using arcane senses to analyze the opal's aura. Opal had many ancient, mystical uses, some of which were for spells of hiding and illusions, and even certain types of invisibility. "A talisman bespelled with a variation on that camouflage glamour the Arimaspi warlords are so fond of. The spell has been modified since the war, though." No wonder that shimmer he had noticed earlier had seemed both strange and familiar to him. This spell was based on the old one he had known, but had been restructured with new elements and modifications. It was also interesting—and frightening—that Fai hadn't easily detected it right away. Fai could see almost any magic, even when it was hidden, yet he hadn't noticed this until the assassin had gone into action. This was definitely something Ashura's wizards needed to understand.

"Yes, Majesty," Suhail agreed. "The construction is different, and it operates on somewhat different principles. It is new to us."

"That would be why we didn't detect it," Ashura mused. "I suppose I should be flattered. The Arimaspi obviously consider my life to be worth the exposure of such an important military secret."

Suhail grimaced, but nodded agreement.

Ashura gave the stone back to Suhail and looked at the assassin. "You're not a magician. I assume you have one or more co-conspirators who gave that talisman to you. Even without the high-level enchantment, the jewel is too precious for someone like you to afford on his own."

The man spat. The glob sizzled and vaporized against Ashura's personal shields. Fai bristled, but stilled when Ashura made a small gesture at him. Taishakuten, not so restrained, struck the failed assassin with the sword pommel, knocking him flat.

Kendappa said scornfully, "You should have let Fai kill him."

"Majesty, I agree!" Taishakuten said. "This miserable place is rife with these conspiracies. These people only understand force and violence. This slimy worm should die right now for what he attempted."

"Perhaps, but then we couldn't use his own knowledge against him," Ashura remarked calmly. Kendappa's eyes lit with understanding, and she smiled.

Fai asked, "What's going to happen?"

Kendappa placed a hand on his shoulder. "Just watch," she said with satisfaction. "Someday Ashura will teach you this spell. You are strong enough to make it work, and you are his shield, after all. He said so himself."

Ashura wasn't so sure he wanted Fai to learn how to perform the next spell. Ever. But there was nothing to be done about that at present. He addressed the assassin. "You did not attempt this alone. The talisman you possessed proves that much. I assume it came from Arimaspea. There are very few Arimaspi mages remaining in the buffer territories, and all are far too weak to create such a thing. It must have been made by one of the magician clans that King Skudra keeps under his thumb."

The man pulled himself back up onto his knees. He glared with hatred at Ashura, but his mouth stayed closed.

"So your co-conspirators must have contact with Arimaspea." And that, Ashura thought grimly, could not be allowed to continue. "They have used you as their dupe. Even if you had succeeded, you would not have survived. My men would have taken you prisoner and used great imagination in killing you. Your false comrades are not here dirtying their own hands. Instead they hide in shadows, intending that you, their expendable pawn, do their bidding and suffer the consequences alone. You owe them nothing. Give me their names, and things will go much easier for you."

"You're going to kill me, anyway," the man finally snarled.

"There are many ways to die. Quick deaths are always preferable to the kind of executions reserved for traitors, conspirators, and failed regicides."

The man's expression twisted with fanaticism. "It doesn't matter how you do it. I'll still die, but I will die for my cause! Do your worst, Witch King. We shall one day prevail over your race of vile conjurers and your pathetic human bootlickers."

The Seresians bristled at the insults, but Ashura maintained a bland, pleasant mien. "Is that so?" he said conversationally.

Suhail commented, "For someone who despises mages, you have no qualms about making use of their powers and creations." He held up the opal talisman.

The assassin ignored him and his accusation of hypocrisy, and spat again at Ashura, the spittle once more vaporizing on the defensive shields. "Threats are useless, foul creatures!" the assassin screeched. "Torture me all you want! Tear out my nails, burn off my feet, crush my fingers! None of the warped abuse you unnatural conjurers so enjoy will work! I swear you will learn nothing from me, not even if you gouge out my eyes and cut off my balls!"

"How very dramatic. You missed your calling. You should have been an actor," Ashura said with contempt. "Or a torturer, as you seem to know a great deal about the subject. However, such unpleasant measures will not be necessary." Ashura held out a hand, palm up. Magic scintillated as spell-runes formed and swirled into an oval shape. With a flash, they coalesced into a great, floating crystal of clearest ice. It had large, broad faces, and within it glowed softly with many pastel colors.

The crowd of Arimaspi huddled amongst themselves, again making signs to ward off evil. Ashura thought the coming demonstration should prove quite instructive to them. Most, he believed, weren't actively involved in sedition. Taishakuten's earlier bad treatment of them had riled up the troublemakers and increased their ranks, but had also probably cowed the rest considerably. Now Ashura intended to show them that even the most secret of conspiracies were useless against him.

The man's eyes became riveted on the crystal. He licked his lips, and his breathing grew harsh. "What sorcery is this?"

"The best kind for interrogation. You should be grateful this is all you face," Ashura told the assassin. "Now, look upon your own guilt, and show us your crimes." Ashura whispered a small incantation, and more spell-runes swirled through the air, yellow and blue and silver, connecting the assassin to the crystal. The runes faded, and images appeared in the facets of the ice.

Blurry faces took shape, and outraged voices rose. The timbered interior of a shadowy room lit only by smoky oil lamps and a fireplace appeared, with eight men sitting about a crude table. They shared several pitchers of ale, and platters of bread, cheese, and apples. Two of the men wore finer clothes than the rest. "—someone should kill them both, the Witch King and his accursed devil child!" an angry man growled, slamming down his cup so hard the ale sloshed out.

Fai made a soft noise of distress. "Devil child?" he whispered. "Accursed? Me?"

Ashura's concentration wavered, almost breaking the spell. He hadn't realized that Fai was also a target. "It is only rhetoric, Fai, and is not personal," he said quietly. "It is your connection to me they abhor." His gaze sharpened upon the assassin, but caught by the spell, the man's attention was fixed on the scene playing out in the ice crystal. "I must continue with this. Kendappa, please take care of Fai."

His cousin nodded: She would keep an eye on Fai so Ashura could focus on the matter at hand.

Ashura said to the assassin, "I'm certain you know their names and faces."

At his suggestion, the image on the crystal shifted to each man in turn, revealing their faces in detail. The common-dressed men were unknown to Ashura, but the other two...

The mayor gasped aloud at the vision displayed. "That's Alderman Urartu!" he blurted. "And the other is the master of the ironmongers' guild, Master Saka."

"How interesting," Ashura commented, observing the mayor and other town officials as they cowered at the sight of the betrayers from their ranks. They had been ordered to stand in a prominent place at the front of the crowd, and Ashura had expected to take direct oaths of loyalty from them. But the guilty alderman and guild master were not present. Ashura wondered if any of the conspirators—aside from the would-be assassin—had been stupid enough to attend. If so, they would soon be ferreted out of the masses and taken into custody.

"No!" the assassin cried. "Stop this! Stop!" He attempted to lunge forward at the ice crystal, but the guards restrained him and covered his mouth.

The crystal continued to display the conspiracy. Master Saka replied to the first man, "Rustam, our main concern should be not be for the king, but for Taishakuten. He's the nearer threat."

"The king makes the laws and controls Taishakuten," another commoner protested.

"Yes," Alderman Urartu agreed. "Taishakuten is a tool, an appendage of the king's. You know the old saying: 'Cut off the head, and the body withers and dies.' Ashura's heir is a mere stripling of fifteen years, incapable of taking control. There will be confusion and disorder. We could make use of that."

"A pretty thought, but it is impossible," the guild master said. "We should focus our efforts in directions more likely to bear fruit."

"No, it is not impossible, Master Saka. The king himself is coming here for a visit." He basked in the others' undivided attention. "I know exactly when. The town council has been provided with dates and instructed to make preparations to greet our new lord and master." His lips twisted in disgust. The other men sat up straighter at his news. Urartu added, "I have already had my people relay this information to Crown Prince Davros."

Ashura's eyes narrowed in concern at what the ice crystal had exposed. "Davros is King Skudra's eldest son and heir. Your plans are grandiose, for him to take interest. Show us, failed regicide, exactly how Davros is involved."

On the crystal, the image of the alderman spoke again, "The prince has promised aid, and he sent us this." He reached into his satchel and extracted a carved opal gem. It glowed with ghostly, multihued radiance in the dim firelight. "It has the power to hide a man from even the Witch King's aberrant senses."

"Truly?" breathed another conspirator—the assassin himself. His hand reached toward the jewel, but he didn't touch it. "It can truly hide us from him?"

"I am assured that it will hide one man from all of them," Alderman Urartu confirmed with a smirk. "All the wizards and conjurers, and all the human trash that obeys them. One need only speak the key incantation, and this jewel's power will enshroud its bearer, and he will become like a gust of wind, invisible to eyes, but felt by the body." He contemplated his eager companion. "You seem to want it, Haddon. Do you also desire the responsibilities and burdens that come with it? It would be a suicide mission. Once you bury your knife in the Witch King's malignant heart, his dark minions will surely capture and execute you, probably with much pain."

"Such a death would be the ultimate honor, if only I could first rid the world of that living abomination," the assassin's own image confirmed, with eyes enflamed by zealotry.


	17. Chapter 17

The rest of the arcane interrogation was quite informative. By the time it ended, Ashura had obtained the names, images, and full schemes of the conspirators who had been present at that meeting. He ordered his and Taishakuten's men to work together to hunt down the criminals. Then he turned his attention back to his audience.

"Only the guilty will be punished," Ashura announced to the throngs of terrified Arimaspi. "All those who are innocent shall be neither prosecuted nor persecuted. Return to your homes, knowing that, as long as you remain humble and obedient, your lives and livelihoods are secure."

After that, the assembly dispersed, and the royal party descended the platform, formed up their retinue with their horses, sleds, and guards, and made the snowy trek back to Spou Castle.

In a sense, Ashura was disappointed. While he was pleased that key conspirators had been exposed, he had rather hoped the tiresome business with the Arimaspi could be concluded in a day or two. Now, because of the disruption, he had to stay longer, hold more assemblies to take the necessary oaths, and deal with the traitors, as well.

There was also Fai to consider. Ashura wondered how Fai would react to the attempted violence. The child had somehow kept his composure throughout the rest of the ordeal, but his posture was rigid, and he gripped his staff so tightly his fingers were bone white. As they prepared to depart, Ashura had whispered to him to apport his staff back to his room at Spou Castle, but Fai just shook his head without a word. Fai couldn't be expected to manage his mount while hanging on to his overlarge staff. Ashura had boosted him into the saddle, staff and all, and then took the reins so he could lead Fai's horse alongside his own.

Poor Fai. Today had probably resurrected every insecurity the boy possessed. Fai had lost everything before coming to Seresu. No wonder he had reacted so emotionally and violently to the threat of losing what he now had. And then the assassin's own memories had revealed that some people viewed Fai as a "devil child," and accursed—similar accusations had been leveled at Fai and his brother back in Valeria. Ashura prayed that all the healing of the past two years had not been undone by just one bad day.

It was so unfortunate. Because of all the precautions he had taken, Ashura hadn't really expected such a blatant public attack, nor such revelations. He had half-hoped for a minor disturbance he could use to put on a show that would overawe the people of Spou, but the scale of what had occurred surprised him. He thought everyone knew that he and the wizards always utilized magical defenses during public appearances, and used quite elaborate protections in troubled regions. It was no secret. And yet, the Arimaspi had been foolish enough to strike at him directly. Perhaps, conditioned to expect obedience and humility from their own subjugated mages, it simply hadn't occurred to them that Seresian wizards would be more proactive about self-preservation.

The trip back to Spou Castle proved tiresome. Fai remained steadfastly mute, and Ashura also didn't feel much like chatting. Even Kendappa was subdued. None of the other lords attempted to make conversation with the royal family, although they did move their horses around them in a silent, defensive formation.

Ashura found the protective gesture considerate, but unnecessary. Honestly, he was more worried about Fai's state of mind than displays of support from his nobility, and wanted nothing more than to take his son and teleport home to Luval. That was impossible, though. Appearances needed to be maintained. The King of Seresu could not be seen fleeing in haste from a rabble of conquered foes and lowly commoners. And so, the column moved at a leisurely and dignified pace, with all the ceremony expected, allowing the local populace to observe that neither the king nor his closest companions were in any way fazed by what had occurred.

Ashura took the opportunity to communicate magically with Suhail, instructing the wizard to interrogate the prisoner and obtain more information about the conspiracy. He also ordered that any other prisoners be questioned, should his men find any of those he had identified. Suhail would use the same memory viewing technique Ashura had, so the information should be more reliable than the packs of lies and half-truths that other methods often produced.

Upon arrival at Spou Castle, Ashura dismounted, tossed the reins to a groom, and went to help Fai. The child was biting his lips and looked like he was holding back either tears or screams. He had done well, staying composed in public, but the long strain had been too much for him.

Ashura held out a hand and said quietly, "Come, Fai. I'll take you back to your quarters."

Fai gripped his hand and clenched his fingers so hard it was crushing. He looked up, blinking. "Okay. That would be good," he said with a tiny tremor.

Ashura glanced about the bailey, and announced, "It has been a somewhat trying day. Lord Fai shall retire." Then he led Fai into the castle.

They had barely made it to the privacy of Fai's chamber before Fai let go of Ashura's hand and pleaded, "I want us to go home." His voice shook and his eyes glistened, but no tears fell.

"I know," Ashura said. "I do, too, but I cannot leave so soon." He rather wished that Fai would allow himself to cry like a normal child. It was all well and good to stay composed in public, but there was no need for that kind of restraint in private. Ashura cursed the horrors of Fai's past that had conditioned him to believe he must shoulder misery as a way of life. "Fai..." he began with the idea of offering comfort, but he wasn't sure what to say. What did one say to comfort a child who had just witnessed a murder attempt on his own foster father? He opened his arms, intending to gather Fai into an embrace.

Fai was having none of it. He moved out of reach, swallowed his tears, and instead grew angry and defiant. He carelessly tossed his staff onto his bed, then flopped down next to it and curled up on his side. He gazed at Ashura with no understanding but plenty of choler. "Why can't we go? You're the king. You can do what you want."

"A common misconception about kingship," Ashura corrected him ruefully. He wasn't sure whether he should be grateful for this change of mood, or worried, so instead he merely attempted to explain and placate. "I have often wished it were true, but alas, it is not. Fai, I cannot be perceived to flee from those..." He caught the expletive before it left his mouth. "...that rabble. This situation, especially, requires that I stay on longer. My departure so soon after today's events would weaken Seresu's position with Arimaspea. King Skudra's heir actively supported today's events, and his people would believe I can be affrighted into flight."

"We won the war. Why would anyone think something so stupid?" Fai muttered with ill temper. He blinked rapidly as his eyes glittered wetly, and then again overmastered the normal childish emotions with anger.

"It is true that they should know better," Ashura patiently explained, wishing once more that Fai would behave like a normal child confronted with trauma. Political discussion seemed pointless to him, merely masking the real issues and providing a way for Fai to push aside what he felt, but there was nothing else Ashura could think to do. Perhaps Fai found the talk calming. "However, that is how Skudra would present it to his own subjects. I am certain he will eventually try to reclaim his lost lands, and he will use every political advantage at his disposal to rouse his people to demand a new war. I dare not show any weakness."

"There's going to be another war?" Fai's voice wavered ever so slightly.

Ashura didn't lie to him. "I believe so."

"When? Soon?"

"No, probably not soon. I would be surprised if it occurred before late summer or autumn, at the very earliest, and it might not occur for over a year." Like Seresu, Arimaspea needed to rebuild and restock. Skudra needed to gather more crops, to collect funds and supplies, and to build up his army. Those things took time. Not that Ashura hadn't considered the possibility that Skudra might attack sooner anyway, and was planning accordingly. Complacency was a fool's gambit. There was no reason to upset Fai even more, though. "Skudra has much work to do first, just like us. Besides, it is insane to attempt a major action in the midst of deep winter. One unexpected blizzard could wipe out all his men."  


"And ours," Fai mused. He frowned.

"Yes, if we were stupid. Skudra is not stupid. Still, it would be interesting to see him try." Ashura paused, chewing his lip as his concern for Fai's state of mind overrode his fear of the coming avalanche. Poor Fai was focusing too much on the Arimaspi situation, and he had been badly upset by the day's events. His mercurial emotions, flashing between tears and anger, plainly stated that he was not rational and needed care, quiet, and safety. He could not hide from his feelings and his fears forever. "You need not remain here, Fai. In fact, I would prefer that you return to Luval as soon as you feel ready. I will send Kendappa and some of the court back with you—"

Fai sat up abruptly. "No!" He leapt off the bed and grabbed Ashura's clothes, tugging. "You can't! Don't make me leave you!"

Ashura placed a hand on Fai's head. "It would be for the best." He was going to have to do some harsh things in the coming days. Better Fai should be in far-off Luval. He would be away from events in Spou, and away from the potential dangers. Ashura had not forgotten that at least one of the conspirators had wanted Fai's life. That maggot couldn't be alone in his foul desire. Their accomplices might strike at Fai in retaliation for Ashura's next actions against them.

Ashura decided to triple Fai's guards...

Fai pulled away. "I won't go!" he shrieked. "You can't make me! I'll-I'll—" He stamped about in his incoherency, then whirled and pointed a shaking finger at Ashura. "I won't let you stay here alone! If you send me home, I'll-I'll-I'll _make_ you come with me!"

Ashura was struck dumb by that proclamation. In any other nine-year-old, it would be an empty threat, a product of childish hysteria. But Fai was not just any nine-year-old. Fai could do it. He could carry out his threat. Ashura's last dream came back to him, hitting him like a blow to the gut:   The dream of Fai as the wind, and himself helpless within its currents, and then imprisoned beneath the ice...

That dream was a warning, a portent that told him the long future might be even worse than he already thought. He feared the dream presaged some coming event that he had not yet identified, but its fundamental threat was always present, and had been since he had first taken Fai to Luval. Managing Fai was always a balancing act, the art of weighing necessity and desire against what was possible. Someday Fai would make his own decisions, and choose his own path. His approaching teenage years—those years of true rebellion and defiance in most youths—promised to be difficult in every sense of the word. Even now, all Ashura could really do to counteract Fai's whims was to provide stability and guidance, and pray to whatever deities would listen that Fai was still willing to be led.

"You don't mean that, Fai," Ashura said slowly. While he spoke, his mind ranged over a variety of spells designed to calm the mind and body. Fai could certainly use the magical help, but Ashura would have to be quick, should such methods prove necessary.

"Yes, I do!" Fai shouted, stamping his foot. "And you can't stop me!"

While Ashura had wished Fai would behave like a normal child and give vent to his emotions, he hadn't expected this reaction, nor this kind of threat. Things were going too far. In the midst of his emotional flare-up, Fai might very well cast a spell they would both regret. Ashura knew he needed to nip this behavior in the bud, before it could cause real troubles. He tried an argument he was certain would appall Fai.

"You would force me, Fai?" he asked coldly, hating himself for every brutal word. But words were his only real defense against Fai's overwhelming power. "Do you truly desire to break me to your will, even against the best interests of our country? Just to soothe your own fears?"

As expected, the accusation hit home. Fai blanched and faltered. Stricken, he stared at Ashura, breathing hard. "Break you?" he whispered. "I don't want to...to..." His face went blank, and he dropped his head. "I only want you to be safe."

He sounded so sad and hopeless. "I know," Ashura said. "But Fai, you must never make threats like that."

"Against you?"

"Against anyone. You have power, not just your magic, but also due to your high position in our society. People _will_ believe you. They will be intimidated, and fearful that you might be serious about using your power against them." Ashura had certainly believed Fai, and though he didn't show it, he still felt a bit breathless. People less certain of Fai's love and good intentions would fear for their safety. "There are consequences to making such threats, Fai."

Fai gulped. "I don't want people to be afraid of me." He wrapped his arms about his middle and squeezed his eyes shut. "Please don't be afraid of me. I only wanted to make sure you were safe," he repeated.

He presented a pathetic spectacle. Ashura resisted the desire to hug him. "I'm not afraid of you, Fai. I'm merely trying to impress upon you the severity of what you just did. No matter how you justify it, you did threaten me. There is no excuse for that. Do you understand me?"

"I understand. I'm sorry." The apology was very soft.

Ashura sighed. "We've both had a very bad day. I'm sorry about what happened. It's my fault. I should have left you home in Luval from the start. I knew there was unrest in Spou, but—" He nearly bit his tongue in half avoiding mention of his dread about the coming avalanche. "I had hoped things here would have settled somewhat... Well, that doesn't matter now."

Fai swallowed hard. "I know what happened today is because of me. Maybe...maybe you should send me away. Then maybe things won't be bad here."

"Because of you?" That was a strange statement. It didn't sound like Fai was talking about what had just happened between them. In fact, he sounded like he had two years ago, when he had been full of self-blame and certain that everything that went wrong in the world was his fault alone. "Fai?" Ashura queried, feeling a cold lump in his stomach. "What do you mean?"

"When you showed us that bad man's memories, those people, they said I was accursed, a devil—it's just like...like..."

Oh, no. It was what Ashura had feared: Fai's old insecurities had been triggered by those worm-ridden conspirators and their loathsome ranting. Ashura knelt down and gathered Fai into his arms, and this time Fai accepted the gesture, clinging tightly. Ashura said, "Fai, it is _not_ what you think. Those people hate _all_ magicians, even their own. They believe we are all accursed devils. Their ravings were not really about you. They don't even know anything about you but that you are mine. To them, I am the most accursed of all. Remember that they call me the Witch King, which is probably the kindest of the appellatives they apply to me. They only mentioned you because of your relation to me. To their minds, everyone near me is smirched with filth and damned by association."

He cursed them all to the foulest hell in the darkest of the Queen of Death's underworlds. Valerians, Arimaspi—all of them, all who had ever hurt Fai. The Dread Queen's minions, the Corpse Goddesses, had a special love for such despicable villains...

Fai shivered in his embrace, and Ashura wondered if his words had made any impact, or only made matters worse. The poor child had been stressed too far. Fai's earlier threats were only an expression of his fear and frustrations, and his old self-hatred. Perhaps Ashura had been too hard on him. Sometimes, like now, Fai seemed so brittle, so fragile, like the frost flowers that sometimes grew upon plants and the surfaces of lakes. Ashura feared that, like those delicate ice formations, Fai might crumble at the lightest touch. Yet Ashura couldn't let such behavior pass undisciplined, lest it become habit, or worse, that Fai might one day carry out similar threats.

Ashura felt completely out of his depth. He truly did not know what to do. No matter what he said to Fai now, he was certain it would be wrong. Everything had the potential to hurt Fai too much.

"Fai, I have been remiss," he said, changing the subject. "I don't believe I ever thanked you for what you did for me today." He gave Fai an affectionate squeeze, hoping that a positive, encouraging note might help. "So I must formally offer my thanks for your protection, and congratulate you on your excellent use of magic. Your instincts and quick reactions were superb, and your manifestation and control of that claw were remarkable, even more so given how fast you created it. I am so proud of you."

Fai gulped as though holding back a sob. "But it didn't matter, did it?" he said. "You had all those protections and guards. You didn't really need me."

Ashura shut his eyes against those despairing words and tightened his hug. "Oh, no, Fai. Don't ever think that. I need you more than you can ever know. I need you more than the air I breathe and the food I eat, even more than my own life. Never ever, ever think I don't need you." He pulled back a little bit. "Besides, think about what you did today. You reacted faster than any guards or any of the other wizards. There are times when I am absentminded. Suppose my shields had wavered in my surprise at the attack, or a group had attacked with many magical weapons? You did the right thing today. Never doubt it."

Fai inhaled deeply, and relaxed a tiny bit. "Today was so scary," he admitted, sounding as though each word was drawn out against his will by a winch. "You're all right, but all those people, those Arimaspi...when we were riding in, and just standing on the platform—they hated me. I could tell. The way they were staring at me... It was... It was like..." He couldn't make himself finish. "I couldn't even make myself look at them..."

Ashura knew he was talking about Valeria again. "It wasn't you, Fai. They weren't looking at you, but at me. Their hatred was directed mostly at me, not just you. Also at Suhail, Syed, Kendappa, and every other magician in their sight. You must not take it personally," he stressed.

"But that's why the attack happened. I couldn't look at them. I should have seen the magic cloak that man used, but I couldn't look at any of them."

Ah, so that was why Fai hadn't detected the magical invisibility cloak before the assassination attempt. Ashura felt a little relieved, although Fai's statement didn't really prove anything. No military assumptions could be made. The spell still would be analyzed so countermeasures could be developed.

"And it wasn't just them that were scary," Fai said, somewhat timidly, as though making a dreadful admission. "Even you were scary."

"Me? How did I frighten you today?" The assassination attempt? But they had been through that. Perhaps the scolding about using power in a threatening way? It shouldn't have frightened Fai, but Ashura couldn't think of anything else he might have done to upset the child.

Fai shook his head. "When you read that bad man's mind. Your eyes were strange."

"My eyes?" Ashura wondered what Fai was talking about, but dismissed it to address the more important topic. "I can't read minds, Fai. I've never heard of any magician who could." Except perhaps the Witch of Dimensions—he was certain she could read hearts and souls, so why not minds, as well? He didn't want to think of that, or of _her_...

Even after two years, thoughts of _her_ still unnerved him.

"We saw what was in his mind, didn't we?" Fai asked nervously.

At last, an opening for a distraction. Ashura grabbed it like a lifeline. It was still related to the day's events, and perhaps an explanation could also serve as a lesson in magical ethics. Ashura would have to speak to Suhail, so that Fai's lessons would provide more emphasis on them. They needed to impress the importance of magical restraint on Fai, while he was still young.

"Fai, we only saw his memories. That spell does not allow a mage to read true thoughts. Rather, it is a special kind of magical hypnotism. It puts the subject into a particular, receptive mental state, and creates a bond between a scrying surface and his mind. You heard me speak to him, did you not?"

Fai nodded.

Ashura continued, "I was prompting him to recall his own memories of what was said and done. He did all the real work himself."

"I don't understand. What do you mean, he did the work himself?"

"He revealed his own memories when I prompted him," Ashura explained. "I did not gouge into his mind to wrest them from him. I merely provided the scrying surface and the spell that allowed his mind to use the crystal. Whenever something I said jogged his memory, the connection between his mind and the crystal displayed what he recalled. I had no control beyond that. In fact, a subject who has great mental discipline can resist the technique, or even befool it and show false memories. Because of this, the technique works best when the subject is off balance and not thinking clearly." He smiled. "Those who are mentally immature, weak-minded, or emotionally upset make the best subjects, naturally."

Fai finally pulled back from the hug, looking thoughtful and interested. His previous fears and anguish seemed forgotten for the moment. Magic always distracted Fai, Ashura thought fondly. If only his own fears could be so easily set aside. He settled himself into a more comfortable sitting position on the floor and watched Fai for any sign of renewed distress.

Fai said, "I've never seen you do that spell before."

"No," Ashura confirmed, and went on to drive home his point about ethics. "It is not used frivolously. This spell's use is governed by law and by custom, because it violates a person's privacy in the most intimate way possible in our world. Today, I was fully justified in my use of it, but it cannot be cast on a whim, or even for a minor offense. Very few wizards are ever allowed to learn the technique to prevent its misuse. Because we restrict the use of such potentially devastating spells, the non-magical folk can remain comfortable and trustful with the mages among them. Otherwise, there would be resentment and fear against us."

"Can the hypnosis magic be used for more than just viewing memories?"

Ashura bestowed his best stern, parental look upon Fai. "I told you, this kind of magic is not intended for trivial purposes. It is not for play. You must never trifle with your friends' memories like some cheap parlor trick."

"That's not what I meant!" he said defensively. "I just wondered how else memories could be manipulated."

Ashura was not about to discuss that topic. In fact, Fai was correct, and the same kind of mesmerizing magic could also be used to tamper with a person's memories. Again, the subject—or in that particular case, the victim—did most of the real work himself. When prompted correctly, he would select the memories in question, then repress or add to them, or even edit them to be different, all in accordance with the magician's suggestions. It was a rather delicate and sophisticated technique, requiring the magician to verbally guide the victim through the proper stages to gain the desired results.

Ashura suspected that the dark magician who had cursed Fai had also tampered with Fai's memories. To this day, Fai believed he only bore one curse, not two. Yet, Ashura thought that a kindness, though he was certain the dark magician hadn't intended it as such. Poor Fai still carried too much of a sense of guilt, felt too many responsibilities and burdens for things he couldn't control, and still blamed himself for his birth country's demise. Imagine if he knew of the second curse, its unholy purpose and devastating reach, and that the only true means to break it was for him to kill Ashura.

Ashura was certain that knowledge would destroy Fai. Poor Fai must never know the truth of his second curse, not until absolutely necessary.

Fai asked bluntly, "Have you ever manipulated anyone's memories?"

Ashura wasn't willing to answer that question, either. During his tenure as King of Seresu, he had altered several other persons' memories, but those few instances had been particularly knotty cases of justice. Fai wouldn't understand the complexities, nor that the memory modifications had been agreed on in council, and had been deemed a mercy to all involved. Besides, Fai sometimes got too experimental with his magic, and he often used Ashura's behavior as a model for his own. Ashura most certainly did not want Fai to believe it was acceptable to toy with this kind of magic. At his age, he might very well convince himself that his own circumstances permitted it.

"Fai," he said, "I cannot stress enough that one must be very careful about memory magic. It is forbidden in all but the most important of cases, which are usually vetted by the royal council before the spell's use. As I said, today was an exception, but again, the council was present and did not protest. Think of the consequences. Would you like to have your deepest and most personal memories exposed for others to see? Or changed so that you did not even recall what had truly happened?"

Fai cringed, wrapping his arms about himself. "No," he said in a very small voice. "That would be really bad."

"Yes, it would. Anyone else would feel the same." Ashura could tell that Fai was yet again recalling his horrific past. He had never revealed to anyone but Ashura that he and his twin had been considered bringers of misfortune in their birth country, nor that he believed his brother and himself the direct cause of his country's death, and Ashura had kept those confidences. Fai would never want his guilt and shame exposed publicly, even if his own self-blame was largely conditioned and imaginary.

Ashura was sorry those old, bad memories had come forth so many times today, but Fai could not be allowed to play with such dangerous techniques. Fai had seen the spell performed, and he had a perfect memory for magic. It was entirely possible that, with a little experimentation, Fai could reproduce it without any further instruction. Memory magic in the hands of a nine-year-old could be disastrous. Not just for Fai's acquaintances, but Seresu at large. If it became widely known that Ashura's own ward was performing spells like that indiscriminately, it could shatter the trust between mage and non-mage. That trust, that the mages would not abuse their power, helped hold Seresu together.

Arimaspea was an object lesson in what could happen when the non-mages did not trust their mages. Ashura would do anything to avoid turning Seresu into another Arimaspea. He didn't want even a hint of those dysfunctional attitudes to taint Seresu.

Ashura continued, "Very few magicians are even capable of performing the technique, and as I said before, fewer still are allowed to learn it."

"Lady Kendappa said that you would teach it to me someday."

"Yes, I probably will. D-titled wizards and court wizards are among the handful who learn it," Ashura admitted. "But I will not teach you this spell until you are much older."

"If I use the spell, will my eyes get scary like yours did?"

Eyes again. "Fai, this is the second time you have mentioned my eyes, but I do not know what you are talking about."

"Your eyes turned golden," Fai explained. "That wasn't scary, it was pretty, but there was also a strange intensity and...I don't know?—weird circling rings around your pupils. I don't know how to describe it..."

"How interesting," Ashura remarked neutrally, though he was curious about what Fai had described. "I have never seen myself perform the spell, so I did not know that." No one had ever mentioned it to him. Perhaps it was normal. Ashura couldn't recall the eyes of anyone else who had used the spell. It was utilized so rarely, and he believed he was one of the very few in Seresu to conjure it in several years—legally, at any rate. Besides, it might be a magical effect that only Fai could see. Fai often saw magic in ways no one else could even comprehend. "Probably it was just a side effect of the spell," he speculated, "like how sometimes auras and lines of power can be seen. Or maybe it was just a sign of the hypnotic process taking place."

Fai grunted, unimpressed. Clearly, he had hoped for a more dramatic explanation.

"I will have to ask Suhail," Ashura said. "He has seen the spell used more often that I have. He may know something."

"But what about—"

"Majesty," Syed D Greenstone's disembodied voice spoke into Ashura's ear through a sudden and uninvited communication spell. "Majesty, I must speak with you."

"Fai," Ashura said, holding up a hand. Fai quieted, but looked impatient.

Ashura completed the connection to Syed's spell. He moved his lips as though speaking, but no sound issued from them into the room. His voice was projected back to Syed's ears. Fai would not hear. "I hope this is important."

A silly statement, as the day's events had been tumultuous. Even on an ordinary day, most things that prompted a court wizard to directly communicate with the king via magic were likely to be important.

Syed said, "Majesty, we need your presence in the main hall. Lord Taishakuten is agitating for vengeance. He wants to burn Spou to the ground, immediately, and Lord Ilmarinen is actually supporting him."

Yes, it was important. Ashura found it hard to believe that Taishakuten and Ilmarinen could share any common ground, but the assassination attempt had obviously provided it. "Where are Vainamoinen and Suhail?"

"They are questioning the prisoner. The preliminary answers they have received indicate that the conspiracy was wider than we first believed. That knowledge has created more outrage. Majesty, the great lords will not listen when others counsel patience. We can barely restrain them. Please hurry."

Ashura felt a surge of aggravation. Couldn't they have waited just another hour before creating new havoc? He had finally managed to calm Fai, and now this. Taishakuten and Ilmarinen knew they were not to punish Spou without authorization, so what were they thinking?

He almost asked about his cousin, but realized that Kendappa was unlikely to be of any help. She thought Ashura too soft with the conquered Arimaspi, and now that there had been an attempt on his life... No, he would not ask her to intervene. He doubted she would actively encourage Taishakuten and Ilmarinen against his orders, but she couldn't be trusted to mollify them with any degree of effectiveness.

Honestly, Ashura was not surprised that the assassination conspiracy encompassed more than just a few men in a shadowy tavern. The crown prince of Arimaspea would not have bothered to involve himself with an amateurish, ill-supported enterprise. However, Ashura had hoped his nobles would have patience enough to allow Suhail and the other interrogators to obtain the full breadth of the conspiracy. Using the memory magic, Suhail would obtain more names and faces, and Ashura's men-at-arms could search for and arrest those collaborators. Then the interrogation and arrest process could be repeated until all the traitors were identified.

While he understood Taishakuten and Ilmarinen's feelings, he could not allow the two border lords to do anything to disrupt those proceedings. Destroying Spou without doubt qualified as disruptive.

"I will be there shortly. Inform everyone that I am not pleased with this news, and that they are to take no action against the town or its people without my direct order," Ashura said to Syed. His eyes slid to Fai. "Then I want you to come here and practice some harmless magic with Fai." He deemed Syed, the youngest of the court wizards and the possessor of both a D title and a decent sense of humor, a suitable guardian and companion for Fai for the next few hours.

"Majesty?"

"I do not want to leave Fai alone at this time, and I want him to be distracted." Ordinary servants, guards, and tutors could not be trusted with a powerful mage-child who might teeter back into hysteria, or take it into his blond head to teleport into a situation where he was not wanted. "Teach him how to create illusions of rainbows, or something equally innocuous. He likes pretty colors. Now relay my message to the lords, and come here quickly."

"Yes, Majesty."

Ashura broke the connection. He was leaning on Syed a great deal during this troubled time, and would need to find a suitable reward for the wizard. Perhaps a titled estate or a wealthy heiress could be found for Syed after matters in the south had been resolved and they returned to Luval.

He returned his attention to his son. "Fai, I am sorry to cut things short, but I must leave immediately to attend to an urgent matter."

"You looked angry. Are you going back to Spou Town?" Fai asked, becoming alarmed and a little frightened.

Ashura gave him a reassuring smile. "No, nothing so drastic as that. I am merely going to the Hall. Some of the lords are creating an annoying fuss and bother, and I must mediate." His statement was quite true, if one understood that the mediation would probably be less polite than the word suggested. In fact, bellowed profanities might be involved. "That is all. I want you to stay here for the time being. Lord Syed is coming to give you a magic lesson. Will you be all right until he arrives?"

Fai's nascent fright dissolved when he learned Ashura wasn't leaving the castle. "Yes," he said. "Promise you'll come back when you are finished?"

"It may take some time, mayhap several hours, but yes, I will return as soon as possible. There is nothing to worry over."

"Okay."

"Very well. I will see you later." Ashura got up and went to the door, conscious of his son watching him. He spoke with the guards, instructing them to send for him immediately if Fai had any serious troubles, and informing them that Lord Syed was coming and to allow the wizard entry into Fai's quarters.

Then, more than a little put out at the irritating but typically fractious nature of Seresian noblemen, he stalked to Spou Castle's Great Hall.


	18. Chapter 18

The next two weeks passed in a whirlwind of activity. Ashura's wizards had identified a number of conspirators and collaborators. The conspiracy was smaller than he had feared, but still wider than he liked. In some cases, entire families had given aid to the plotters, or even participated themselves. Ashura had hoped to spare the women and children, but there were cases where wives and teenagers had been active participants. He could not pardon them. At least the small children were too young to be blamed, but some would be left as orphans. He hoped they had other family who would take care of them.

Unfortunately, surviving family members would have even more reason to hate him and plot against him. While most could manage to live their lives despite their tragedies, Ashura knew that someday he would probably have to deal with those who could not master their hatred and bitterness. He should cut off the serpent's head to prevent it from striking again, yet he could not bring himself to put them all to death. Especially not the little ones, who, despite being innocent, would likely grow into vipers.

He kept thinking about Fai and his brother, little children who had been condemned for reasons beyond their control. No doubt the Valerian ruler had had the same thought, to minimize a problem before it festered and grew too far out of control. Ashura knew he should do the same, but really, his situation was entirely different. What did it matter in the long run if he allowed the children to live? They were all doomed in any case. Time was slowly running out for Seresu, no matter what he did in the conquered lands. He would murder his country eventually, and he hoped that by then the Arimaspi would be Seresian. If his own plans succeeded, he would kill all the children, not only those young ones whose only crime was being born to conspirators.

Even burdened with that guilt, he pursued the investigation with vigor. Once culprits were identified, their homes and places of business were searched. A decent amount of physical evidence was recovered. He made certain everything was done with exacting, rigorous care, in observation of Seresian law and custom, and with Spou officials present as witnesses.

Not too surprisingly, those of substantial means had already fled. Alderman Urartu, in particular, was long gone. The foul creature had abandoned his own family, leaving his wife and children near destitute: They had only recently discovered that most of their money and small, portable valuables had disappeared with him. Interviews with Urartu's acquaintances and family revealed that he had left three days before Ashura's public appearance at the guild hall, on what Urartu had claimed was an official trip to inspect some outlying farms.

Likewise, the master of the ironmongers' guild, Master Saka, was nowhere to be found. In contrast to the alderman, though, he had taken his family with him.

Ashura suspected both were already across the border and in Arimaspea, where he couldn't touch them. Their escape irritated him, as they were leaders of the conspiracy, but he rather doubted that they would be well received by their former rulers. Skudra and Davros would not be pleased that the plot had failed, nor at the price of a failed assassination. While they had been willing to exchange the secret of their new camouflage magic for Ashura's life, they would not be happy to have lost it for nothing. They would probably vent their anger on their hapless tools.

Ashura hoped that neither Skudra nor Davros restrained his temper.

For the conspirators who had been caught, trials were swift and public, being held in the town square before the guild hall. The evidence, both magical and physical, was displayed prominently so that none in Spou could honestly claim Ashura acted on nothing more than bile and lust for revenge. He doubted any would appreciate that particular consideration very much, though. The worst possible aspersions would be cast on his actions and motives, no matter how he handled the conspirators.

With the far future on his mind, he sent healers both magical and physical into Spou Town—suitably guarded, of course. There was no way to undo the damage done to those innocents who had been maimed, but perhaps the healers could at least relieve their suffering. The services of the ordinary physicians were accepted, although most Arimaspi spurned the help of the magical healers. That was no surprise. However, a few welcomed the magical assistance with tears and gratitude, which reinforced Ashura's belief that some of the Arimaspi actually preferred their new situation.

He hoped to have matters wrapped up soon. Spou Castle was not particularly large. Being a small, local keep, it had never been intended to support a significant concourse of gentry, let alone a royal court, and its resources were rapidly being exhausted. Ashura had not planned to spend more than two or three days in residence, and even then he had not brought his entire entourage. Even with the relatively small company, it would be necessary to move most of them back to Vasara if the unpleasant business in Spou dragged out much longer. He gave orders for those not essential to the legal proceedings to begin packing.

Ashura made a point of devoting time to Fai, but with everything to be done, he simply could not lavish as much attention on his son as he wished. Fai was extra clingy, a reaction that Ashura found perfectly understandable, given Fai's history and the recent events. Ashura really wished that Fai had consented to return to Luval, but probably it wouldn't have helped. Left to his own devices, Fai would have imagined all sorts of horrors, no matter how much others reassured him. Ashura would have magically communicated with him as often as practical, as he had done during the war to calm his son. It would have been a futile effort; this time Fai had seen the danger for himself, and no careful, soothing words would have prevented him from fretting himself into a terrified state. In addition, Fai could teleport anywhere he wished. Letting Fai remain in Spou was a concession to reality. Fai would have returned, anyway, and in an unsupervised fashion. At least this way Ashura could keep an eye on him. He consoled himself with that thought.

The days were full and tense, and to relieve his strained nerves and unhappy thoughts Ashura took Lady Darja to his bed on those nights he wasn't completely exhausted. Payment for services was simple, and even useful. A few jewels, and increased status and wealth through Lord Matas's widened responsibilities. Ashura accorded Darja's husband more importance in the court, and even assigned him to carry out some royal duties related to the disposition of the conspirators. He turned out to be surprisingly competent, and Ashura thought that perhaps Matas might make a decent henchman in the future. Ashura would have to keep in mind that Matas's first loyalty was to Taishakuten, but Matas seemed ambitious, and might be open to other opportunities even after Ashura ended his affair with Darja.

Finally, matters in Spou reached a conclusion, all conspirators being convicted of treason and attempted murder of the monarch. Both were state offenses, and both mandated death sentences. Ashura signed the warrants for the executions. The conspirators would all die the next morning, weather permitting. Again, all would be public. The executions would be carried out in the town square before the guild hall, on the very platform where the original crime had been attempted.

When he affixed his signature and seal to the orders, Ashura also stipulated that, as the injured party and the ultimate authority in all of Seresu, he would perform the executions himself. It was a most unusual step, but as king it was his right, and none would dare to gainsay him. He intended to make an indelible impression on the rest of the Arimaspi, something that would shock them utterly and eclipse Taishakuten's rampages in their hearts and minds. It would also have the benefit of taking the Arimaspi's minds off Fai. Ashura intended that their eyes and inevitable hatred be firmly fixed on him, not on a little boy.

With that in mind, on the morning of the executions he ordered Fai to stay in Spou Castle until after it was all over.

"Why? I've seen executions before," Fai said bluntly.

Ashura almost asked how that little fact had come about, as he had never authorized such, but before he spoke he recalled Fai's history and his ease at teleportation. Even if Fai had not witnessed so much pain and death in Valeria, he could have seen executions in the towns in Seresu. Most cities, towns, and villages conducted their own justice for local offenses. Ashura rarely heard about the punishments and executions of common thieves, murderers, and other criminals, but Fai might have arrived in a town at just the right—or rather, the wrong—time.

"In Seresu?" he asked anyway.

Fai nodded. "Mostly some hangings. And other kinds...not just in Seresu," he added quietly.

"You should have told me," Ashura said, just as softly. "Hangings aren't pretty." Some were quick, such as a sharp, sudden drop from a decent height, although they could result in inadvertent decapitations. Others were designed to strangle the condemned to death, and could take up to twenty minutes to kill the victim.

"They're not as bad as...as other things."

That told Ashura far too much. Fai was too young to be so complacent about executions. True, most children his age had witnessed at least one or two executions, but Fai's history was unique. Besides, Ashura didn't want Fai to see what would happen today. While he intended to be far more merciful than the condemned deserved, what he had planned would be upsetting.

"Fai, I'm sorry you've seen such things. Nevertheless, I forbid you to attend," he commanded. When Fai opened his mouth to protest further, Ashura forestalled him by saying, "Please, Fai. It would make me feel better to know you are in Spou Castle. I promise to protect myself and to keep my guards about me at all times. There will be other wizards to guard me, as well. It will not take long, and I promise to return to you immediately after it is over. Please, Fai, please obey me in this matter."

Ashura's calculated pleas had hit the right note. Fai reluctantly agreed, but despite the apparent compliance Ashura didn't fully trust to his son's good behavior. After he left Fai, he took Syed D Greenstone aside.

"I want you to stay here and drill Fai in magic to occupy him," Ashura told the wizard, falling back on his mainstay method for directing Fai's attention from matters that the child should not know. "Challenge him. Push the limits of his knowledge as far as you can. I don't want him to even think about the executions until they are long over."

Ashura considered that he had, during the trip to the Southlands, turned an important, D-titled court wizard into a babysitter and general errand boy. He was lucky he didn't face open revolt for this latest indignity. How fortunate that Syed had such a good nature and an excellent sense of humor. Of course, those qualities, along with his magical abilities, made him an admirable babysitter for Fai. Ashura really needed to find a nice reward for poor Syed.

"It will be difficult to keep him distracted, Your Majesty," Syed replied. "He has a quick mind, and he has been watching you closely these past two weeks."

"He worries," Ashura admitted. "You can keep him preoccupied with self-levitation magic. He still has not succeeded at it. It takes all his focus just to get the runes to manifest correctly." He smiled fondly at the memory of Fai's frustration. He was certain Fai would master the spell eventually.

Syed raised an eyebrow. "Majesty, you taught him such an advanced technique? I know he is frighteningly powerful and far more skilled than other children his age, but isn't that expecting too much of him?"

"Do you question my judgment?" Ashura asked, lifting his chin haughtily. How annoying, that both Suahil and Syed had, however politely, criticized him on this subject. They couldn't understand his reasons.

Syed bowed his head and dropped his eyes. "Forgive me, Majesty, for overstepping my bounds."

Ashura softened and added, "Fai asked to learn. He needs to be constantly challenged, and this spell will keep him busy for quite a while. In any case, while he concentrates on it he will not be thinking of me, nor of my part in today's executions."

"Will it really be so bad?"

"Actually, it will be merciful and quick," Ashura said. "But it will also be abrupt and shocking. Because of Taishakuten's heavy hand, the people here are accustomed to violence and brutality, and thus expect to see ugly, violent, and brutal deaths. I need to jolt them into recognizing that I am the ultimate authority over them and the final arbiter of their fates, not Taishakuten, and that I can temper the justice delivered unto them. After they recover their wits, they will realize those facts, and that their fellows did not suffer. However, because it will be shocking, I do not want Fai to witness it." Fai already had enough nightmares and bad memories. Ashura didn't want to add more to his son's store of horrors, and he certainly didn't want to play the central, most prominent role in them.

Not yet. One day, he knew, he would, but that would not come for many more years.

"May I ask what you intend to do, Majesty?"

"No. Fai might ask you, and you would not be able to keep it secret, no matter your intent. He would find some way to cozen it out of you. He can coax the birds from the trees with his beguiling ways, most especially when he is motivated."

 


	19. Chapter 19

The weather had been clear and fine for several days, though bitterly cold despite the cloudless skies and brilliant sunshine. The morning of the execution was no exception. Ashura stood alone on the platform in front of Spou's guild hall, carrying no weapons but his golden, bejeweled staff. A small spell kept him comfortable, so with little regard for practicality or warmth, he was arrayed in fine court attire. The rest of his own people, his guards, wizards, and nobles, were positioned around the base of the stage. Ashura caused his magical defenses to glow and crackle in such a way that everyone could see his aura, and refrained from smiling at the way the crowds drew back.

From his vantage point, Ashura surveyed the town square. Arimaspi filled the space, bundled up against the elements, fearful and murmuring, surreptitiously making their favorite gestures to ward off evil as they eyed with trepidation the king and his display of magic. The snow had been shoveled and swept off to the sides of the square many days ago. The frozen white mounds glittered, reflecting the painfully pure blue of the winter's day.

The crowd's reaction Ashura had anticipated, the weather's less so. He considered how the weather seemed to cooperate with his desires, even without his deliberately using magic to attempt to alter it. It seemed to happen regularly, and had become noticeable to him. While he could sometimes control local weather in a small way, being able to create gusts of wind, miniature storm clouds, and the like, weather manipulation on this sort of broad scale was unprecedented to him. He pulled his gold-trimmed cloak tighter about himself. His unconscious influence over the weather had started after he had brought Fai to Seresu. He knew what it meant. "The King and the Land are One" was an old Seresian belief, and for the past two years he had been confronted with a number of signs that the old traditions were really true. The weather was just another sign of his mystical connection with his land and people.

It was a sign that one day he would use that oneness, that connection, to steal Seresu's life to strengthen his own power.

Not unlike how he would take the lives of twenty-seven Arimaspi today. Only today, it would be justice served, not murder, and he would accrue no magical benefit from it. That magical strengthening through killing would not come to him for many years yet. Perhaps the signs he witnessed today indicated that he would succeed with his plans to integrate the Arimaspi with Seresu. His continued influence over the weather, even here in Arimaspi territory, hinted that it was already occurring.

The crowd noise grew louder. Shouts, curses, and wailing filled the air. Seresian men-at-arms forced the throngs to make way, barricading them from a central path. More troops escorted the condemned Arimaspi through the opened route. The prisoners were bound, their wrists tied with rope behind their backs, but there were no other restraints. None would be needed this day.

They were a sorry lot, being composed mostly of the lower echelons of Spou's society. The most disenfranchised people in any society were easily led and befooled by their betters. Suhail's magical interrogations had revealed that Urartu and Saka had made ridiculous promises to them: that with Ashura's death Spou would be returned to Arimaspea; that their own involvement would result in rich rewards from King Skudra; that they would be hailed as heroes of Arimaspea and so their lives would be improved and made easy; that their families would be compensated by Skudra should they be captured and executed.

Those false promises, accompanied by clever plays on their normal hatred and prejudice, had caused them to willingly tread the path to their own dooms. Even now, Ashura noted no contrition in them. A few even looked proud. They viewed themselves as martyrs to their oh-so-noble cause, and the failed regicide himself, the one most obsessed and deceived by his leaders, Haddon the dupe, strutted to his death like a conquering hero.

Still, most of them also appeared frightened, no matter how they tried to hide their fear. They knew well the punishments they should receive for their transgressions. They knew what King Skudra would have done to them had they conspired against him.

The group stopped before the stage, staring up. The elements of misplaced pride vanished, and shock joined the fear. While Ashura was all alone on the platform, and his aura was crackling visibly, he knew that wasn't the sole source of their surprise and confusion.

Aside from Ashura's presence, the stage was bare and empty. There were no gallows for hanging, no tables or instruments for torture, no stakes or piles of wood for burning, no block or headsman with axe or sword. None of the usual accoutrements for execution were present. The prisoners faced only the king and his crackling, glowing magic. Ashura knew that, at this moment, he presented a worse threat than any of the normal tools of death, simply because the scene was so unexpected. The culprits' own imaginations were now their worst enemies, each conjuring his or her own secret horrors to terrify their souls. Just by standing alone on an empty stage, Ashura had destroyed any shreds of pride, courage, or resignation they might have gathered to face their deaths.

It was cruel, he knew, but also a necessary lesson for their kin and the townsfolk.

He was grateful beyond words that Fai had heeded his pleas to stay away from this execution, grateful that Syed was distracting Fai at this very moment. How terrible it would have been had Fai witnessed this dreadful spectacle.

At his smallest gesture, the guards forced the prisoners to their knees. In a few cases they beat prisoners down with fists, staves, and the flat sides of bared swords, but most went down without struggle. Wide, terrified eyes locked on him.

Ashura addressed them bluntly. "For your treason against me and against Seresu, for your despicable plans to assassinate your king and disrupt the peace, you traitorous curs are condemned to die." He enhanced his voice by magic to carry throughout the entire town of Spou, so that everyone living there could hear, whether they attended the execution or not. "Your crimes are of the most foul, and have earned you this punishment. Let today be a lesson for all that treason will always be discovered and dealt the harsh penalties it merits. Such loathsome crimes are a gangrene in the body of our society, and can only be healed when the corrupted parts are excised. So shall I now excise you from the living."

At the conclusion of his calculated, uncompromising speech, he walked to the far end of the stage. That was the cue for the guards to make the prisoners stand and herd them up the side stairs. The condemned Arimaspi moved with halting steps and received rough shoves when they faltered or balked. When all of them had gathered on the stage, the guards looked to Ashura. He nodded, and they descended the stage.

It didn't matter that the prisoners were now unguarded. It didn't matter if any of them bolted and tried to escape. It didn't even matter if they charged at him. He was shielded, and he had them all marked. As they had been driven up onto the platform, Ashura had been weaving his spells invisibly about them. They would all die upon his command, whether on the stage, in the crowd, or even outside the town's walls.

He next did the very thing he had adjured Fai to never do. He held his staff aloft and created a levitation spell about himself, making sure all the runes and magic were as brilliant as the sun. With arms outstretched he rose high above the stage. He had deliberately taken this action to prompt the Arimaspi's memories; many of them had seen him perform this feat before, when he had similarly levitated over their army to blast it with eldritch bolts of fire and lightning. It was yet another reminder that, as their conqueror and their new king, he held ultimate power over their lives.

As he stabilized his elevation above the stage, he heard shrieks and gasps from both the prisoners and the crowd of Arimaspi, saw Suhail's and the other wizards' approval, saw Kendappa, Ilmarinen, and Vainamoinen smile viciously, saw Taishakuten's eyes glitter with anticipation. None of Ashura's own people knew exactly what he intended to do, so they watched with breathless expectation of something dramatic.

He did not disappoint them.

His voice resounding throughout the entire town, Ashura announced, "And now the gangrene is excised!" and sent out a single pulse of power.

The twenty-seven Arimaspi prisoners—men, women, and a few teenagers—all instantly transformed into clouds of glittering crystalline powder.

Ashura had frozen out all the water in their bodies and fractured the ice into innumerable, dust-like crystals. The remaining substance of their flesh, bones, and blood had simultaneously been transformed into dry, powdery residue that mingled with the tiny ice shards. The frosty dust swirled and drifted in the air.

There had been no sound at all at the moment of metamorphosis. There had only been the sudden disappearance of twenty-seven prisoners, who were replaced by puffs of sparkling dust.

It had been fast, so fast that, for a few seconds, no one but Ashura really understood what had happened. For those bare instants, all were struck silent. The Seresians as well as the Arimaspi looked on with shock. Then comprehension took hold. Shrieks, screams and wails erupted from the Arimaspi. People cast themselves on the ground, some in prostration, others in simple hysteria. Many raised beseeching hands to Ashura, who still hovered far above them. A few ran about in erratic patterns, screeching at the top of their lungs, barreling into their fellows in panic. The Seresians, more accustomed to public displays of magic, if not displays quite so alarming, maintained firm control over their own responses and kept the crowd from getting too far out of hand.

In the midst of the crowd's reaction, a sudden gust of wind scattered the glistening particles. A moment later there was no sign that the twenty-seven condemned Arimaspi had ever existed. Ashura hadn't summoned the wind; it had come of its own accord. As Ashura now admitted to himself that the weather sometimes responded to his own moods, he acknowledged and accepted the wind as a sign that he did, indeed, now stand in mystical, as well as temporal, authority over this part of Arimaspea. It assured him that these Arimaspi, at least, would one day become integrated fully with Seresu.

He wished he could feel pleased about it. He knew he should be pleased. His plans for the future were becoming more secure with every new life he bound to Seresu.

He felt only regret.

The screams and hysteria continued. Ashura had originally planned to address the townsfolk again, after the execution, to reassure them that as long as they remained obedient subjects they had nothing to fear from him. He had intendeded to remind them that this punishment had been meted out only because the crime had been so severe. The Arimaspi, though, were still too traumatized by what they had witnessed. For now it would be impossible to get through to them. In any case, he realized, further speeches would only be anticlimactic.

He bowed to reality. Kingship was often the art of the possible and taking advantage of opportunities as they arose.

He pushed more power into his levitation spell. The runes and tendrils circling him and connecting to the ground snapped and crackled like jagged chains of lightning, and the fluorite stone in his staff blazed with unearthly light. He rose higher, higher, glowing more and more, until he outshone the very sun. Then he wove another spell, a translocation spell, and without further ceremony he teleported back to his quarters in Spou Castle.

He had barely had time to dismiss the spells he had placed on himself and set aside his staff when Fai burst into the room.

"You're back! You're safe!" Fai cried, and ran to throw his arms around Ashura. "I was so worried something bad would happen again!" For the moment Fai had cast aside all the dignity and maturity he imagined a grown-up nine-year-old should display. Ashura took advantage of this opportunity, picked Fai up, and hugged him fiercely.

"Yes, Fai, I told you I would be fine," Ashura said. "You see, I didn't lie. Everything is fine."

But that was a lie. Nothing was fine. Nothing.

The weather's response to his execution of the Arimaspi, its reactions to his moods, demonstrated his destiny beyond all doubt. The future charged forward too fast, too hard. Time was slipping away, out of his grasp, and it could never be regained.

At least the people who had spoken so enthusiastically about killing Fai were gone. Ashura squeezed Fai until the child squawked, then apologized and set Fai down.

Syed followed Fai into the room. "He sensed your arrival immediately, Your Majesty, and there was no holding him back."

"It's all right, Syed," Ashura returned. "This kind of homecoming gladdens my heart."

"The Arimaspi conspirators?"

"It is done," Ashura confirmed. "It will have everyone in the entire kingdom talking for months, I'm sure." He tousled Fai's hair affectionately.

"They're dead, right?" Fai asked.

"Yes."

"Good."

Interestingly, Fai didn't ask for any details. Ashura wondered if that was a good thing or bad.

It didn't matter. He wasn't willing to discuss the execution in Fai's presence. Even though Syed's eyes practically glowed with questions, he held his tongue, bowed, and begged permission to leave. Ashura granted it with a short nod. Syed's curiosity would be satisfied soon enough. The courtiers and troops would be returning soon, and would regale all who had not been present with tales of what had been done.

That meant Fai would hear of it, too, but secondhand accounts should not horrify him. Those stories would probably dwell on the awesome figure Ashura had presented, on power and majesty and spectacle, rather than the atmosphere of fear and harsh authority he had cultivated for the Arimaspi. Told after the fact, stories of the method and speed in which the condemned had met their fates wouldn't seem so very terrible.

In fact, he rather suspected that he might be criticized for being too merciful.

Fai stared up at him with crystal blue eyes. "You've done what you said you had to do. It's over, right? Can we go home now?"

Ashura smiled at him. "It's almost over, Fai. There are a few matters left to arrange, but I can delegate most of them to my councilors. I must also appoint some new deputies to supervise the situation here. It will take perhaps two more days, or at most three. After that—"

"Then we can go home?" Fai demanded.

"Yes, Fai. Then we will go home."

 


	20. IV: Winter's Bright Light

 

**IV: Winter's Bright Light**

 

As long as there were no large, unexpected events—like assassination attempts—Ashura was very good with timetables and predicting how long known tasks would take. He was well acquainted with administration, and his estimate for how long they would need to remain in Spou was accurate. After two days, the court returned to Castle Vasara.

After just one night in Vasara, long enough for everyone to prepare, he journeyed back to Luval. The court that went with him was enlarged by one powerful border lord and his train. In a bid to reinforce the crown's rule in the south, Ashura had decided to remove Taishakuten from the Southlands for a while. He had left royal deputies to supervise the ongoing situation, and some troops to enforce their authority.

In the absence of their lord, Taishakuten's subordinates would be required to "take advice" from Ashura's deputies, and in general behave themselves. Ashura had issued a royal writ declaring that he was leaving his advisors and troops "in aid of preventing rebellion and further acts of disobedience against the crown." In plainer words, his own people had the power to overrule Taishakuten's should matters with the Arimaspi once again become troublesome.

While he had couched all this to Taishakuten as an invitation to court for the midwinter festival, all involved knew it was really an order and sign of distrust. However, Taishakuten seemed honestly pleased by the change in his status and treated it as an honor. Ashura was aware that Taishakuten had been angling for a place at court for some time—since before Fai had come to Seresu, in fact—so the warlord's attitude should not have surprised him. Nonetheless, he was a trifle put out that Taishakuten didn't appear the slightest perturbed by the reprimand.

Kendappa thought it a fine thing to have Taishakuten in Luval. "He has been such an excellent host," she remarked, "and went to great effort to make himself agreeable and to obey all your lightest whims."

"I know you often favor him," Ashura returned. "But you also seem to prefer his stays at court to be short." As do I, he added mentally. Taishakuten was dangerous and ambitious. He handled Arimaspi border raids and incursions well, having the perfect temperament for warfare, so Ashura preferred him to remain in his own territory. However, by his own brutal actions, Taishakuten had made himself a flashpoint for the people of Spou and the other conquered lands. Ashura hoped that all of the south—the other Seresian border lords as well as the conquered Arimaspi—would calm down with Taishakuten out of sight for a month or two.

"Won't this visit also be short?" she replied. "Your political purpose is quite clear, but I assumed you would allow him to return home after the Festival of Lighting the Night."

Ashura nodded. "That is what I intend. It all depends on the temper of the south, though." Taishakuten's stay at Luval might be longer, should the south remain unsettled.

Taishakuten needed to make himself useful during his time at court, Ashura thought, resigning himself to the likelihood that the warlord's stay might be for a longer duration than originally planned. Taishakuten was one of the most skilled and powerful warriors in Seresu. He could be assigned to drill Fai in fighting techniques. It would suit his ego to be in charge of training the king's ward in arms and combat, and suit several of Ashura's purposes, as well. Fai would receive the best martial training available, thus preparing him better for his future. In addition, he would be exposed to a more openly ruthless perspective than usually displayed in a royal court. Taishakuten's friends and enemies almost always knew where they stood with him. Unlike many of Ashura's other courtiers, Taishakuten rarely bothered to disguise his ambitions and hostilities behind pleasant miens. It would be good for Fai to see the difference and learn how to interact with such personalities and attitudes, in case he should encounter similar persons on his future journeys.

At Luval, Ashura found that two special envoys and their entourages awaited him. He took a little time to settle himself and Fai in at home, but received each of the envoys individually within a few days of his return. As it turned out, both bore the same type of messages.

Two offers of strengthened alliance, to be cemented by marriage with members of Seresu's royal family.

The first came from King Ukko Ylijumala of Lintukoto. Ukko proposed his eldest daughter as a match for Ashura's nephew and heir, Tancred.

Ashura was not surprised to receive such an offer from Lintukoto. Had he not been so distracted recently, he might well have suggested it first, as he and Ukko had discussed tighter alliances before. Lintukoto was Seresu's oldest ally, and Ukko still regarded himself as Ashura's brother by marriage, as Ashura's late wife had been Ukko's younger sister. By marrying his daughter to Ashura's heir, Ukko would continue and reinvigorate the longstanding ties.

It was a good match, and politically expedient, as well. Seresu needed strong bonds to its friendly neighbors, and military alliances in the face of Arimaspea's ambitions. Ashura had not a single doubt about the match and its benefits. He set his own scribes and councilors to composing a suitable acceptance and to begin negotiations with Ukko's emissaries for the betrothal. Then he composed a personal note to inform Tancred and his mother, Sybilla, of their good fortune. They would understand that, despite the ornate congratulations, it was an order. Sybilla would be ecstatic, Ashura was sure. He was less certain of Tancred's response, but the boy had been drilled in the duties of an heir presumptive and understood his role in Seresu's royal hierarchy.

The second offer came from the King of Thule. Unlike Ukko's message, this one was a complete surprise. Its timing could have been better, in Ashura's view, although he did find it as pleasing and useful as the offer from Lintukoto. King Jarilo's last queen had died over a year ago of a fever. Jarilo had outlived two wives, the first having died in childbed, as happened too often to women both highborn and low. Ashura's own wife had died during childbirth, along with the twin boys she had borne.

Jarilo had finished his period of mourning some months ago, and desired a new queen. As Thule and Seresu had developed stronger ties during the war with Arimaspea, Jarilo looked to Seresu for a marriage alliance. He already had a passel of children to serve as heirs, so he did not require a particularly youthful bride and, in fact, preferred a lady with experience at politics and court intrigue over a fawn-eyed ingénue. Instead of asking for Ashura's niece, Mielu, who was only ten years old, he offered marriage to Ashura's cousin, Kendappa.

Should Ashura agree to the proposal, Kendappa would become Queen of Thule.

More importantly, it would get her out of Seresu well before Ashura commenced his rampages to gain the power he needed to trigger Fai's first curse. The Queen of Thule would naturally be required to live in Thule. She would not be in Seresu, so Ashura could not kill her when his own curse overtook him and drove him to mass murder.

Ashura had hoped to keep Kendappa by him somewhat longer. He hadn't planned to arrange a political marriage for her until closer to that horrific time, not until Fai was nearer adulthood and his own destiny. Still, Jarilo's offer was too good to dismiss out of hand. Another so excellent and advantageous might never present itself. Potential marriage candidates of suitable rank did not grow on trees. Another opportunity to marry Kendappa out of Seresu might not turn up at all if he waited too long. Many things about his life were perverse that way.

Surely becoming a queen would suit Kendappa.

_...Kendappa's dead eyes staring up at him, accusing him..._

He shook off the memory of that old vision, a brief prophecy he'd experienced right before he had found Fai. He was determined to change Kendappa's future, and King Jarilo's offer provided him with the opportunity to do so. He could not let this chance slip through his fingers. He had to at least try to save her.

Ashura recalled what Kendappa had once told him, that her first marriage hadn't suited her at all and she was more than happy to remain in her widowed and unmarried state. What he knew of her taste in bed partners confirmed that her expressed desire had been honest.

Her preferences did not disturb him. Magicians were expected to be experimental and unorthodox. It allowed them to take on a variety of roles and even redefine their senses of self for various magical purposes. Ashura himself had done some experimenting in his youth, although nothing too terribly exciting, as the crown prince's life was never truly his own. His late brother, Tendulkar, had been more adventurous. Some of Tendulkar's stories and insinuations made Ashura's experiences pale to insignificance. As long as Kendappa fulfilled her duties to the royal family and to Seresu, she could take whomever she pleased to her bed.

However, the duties of princes and princesses included political marriages, and the necessity of conforming to their new country's expectations. While Kendappa understood that hard reality, she would not like it.

Ashura sighed, and set in motion the procedures to confirm her betrothal to King Jarilo.

While his purpose was to save her life, she did not know that. She could never know the truth of that.

He did not look forward to her reaction.

 

* * *

 

Author's Note: Just FYI, Ashura's brief vision of Kendappa's death occurred near the end of _Embracing Destiny_.

 


	21. Chapter 21

Ashura might dither over many of his personal issues, but he never procrastinated long when it came to politics. A mere two hours after he had given his acceptance of the proposal to the envoys from Thule, he summoned Kendappa to a private chamber and informed her of her coming marriage. His cousin received the news with all the grace, dignity, and humor he had expected of her.

"He's an old man!" Kendappa screeched, throwing her arms out in quite a dramatic display. "How could you?"

"King Jarilo is, in fact, only forty eight years old," Ashura returned mildly. "That is still young to such as we."

"It's over half a lifetime for non-mages!" she shrieked at him, the high-pitched rant hurting his ears. "He's almost in his grave!"

"Then you won't have to tolerate being married to him for very long," Ashura snapped. "Enough, Kendappa. This alliance is greatly to Seresu's advantage. My decision is made."

"You can unmake it!"

"The political consequences—"

"I don't care!" Her chest heaved, and she actually stamped her foot, just like Fai when he felt thwarted in some ridiculous desire.

"Are you going to throw a tantrum?" Ashura mocked her. "Fall to the floor and drum your heels, perhaps? I'd expect this behavior from Mielu or Fai, not from you. You've enjoyed the privileges of rank all your life. Now accept the responsibilities that come with the perquisites. Seresu needs strong blood bonds with its neighbors, if it is to continue to stand against Arimaspea. You _will_ do your duty."

"And so you would sacrifice your kin for political reasons?" she spat at him.

"You often tell me I should not be too soft," he said, coldly, so very coldly. "I am taking your advice."

Her eyes widened and her mouth hung open. Ashura pivoted sharply and stalked out of the chamber. Behind him, the door slammed hard enough to rattle the corridor. Muffled crashes sounded from the room, as of furniture shattering against stone walls. Kendappa's magic could be quite impressive when she wanted to make a point. Or when she threw a fit.

Curse that wretched woman. This was for the best. It was for her good, for Seresu's good. Such a perfect blending of purposes—strengthen political and military alliances with Thule, and get Kendappa out of Seresu before it was too late.

She would calm down, Ashura told himself as he strode through the hallways. She would accept the inevitable. She had been born and bred to royal life. She would do her duty, and mayhap survive the future.

Unconsciously, he walked faster.

_...Kendappa's dead eyes staring up at him, accusing him..._

He roughly pushed aside the memory of that old, prophetic dream. He had defeated it, he had. It was nothing now, less than nothing, just a phantasm, a wisp of vanquished horror. But his chest clenched, his heart juddered, and his breath shortened. He increased his steps, faster and faster. A terrible pressure grew in him, threatening to burst free. Someone spoke to him, begging a moment of His Majesty's time, but he only shook his head and passed the supplicant by. He didn't trust himself to speak, fearing his voice would quaver, or that he might throw up, or even lash out due to the pressure building inside him.

_...Kendappa's dead eyes staring up at him, accusing him..._

"No," he whispered. "No." It wouldn't happen, not now. He was sending her to Thule. She would be safe. She would.

The pressure continued to build. He struggled to breathe, but only gasps came.

_...Kendappa's dead eyes staring up at him, accusing him..._

Ashura wanted to scream. He practically ran through Luval Castle's hallways and corridors. Maybe he was running. He didn't know. The world seemed to turn sideways. More people called to him, but he ran blindly.

Run.

Escape.

_...Kendappa's dead eyes staring up at him, accusing him..._

Escape, escape, _escape!_

Magic blazed about him, bright colors, sparks and crackles, and runes—runes and more runes, scattered and meaningless. They circled him, around and around and around, keeping pace with him. They were his companions, his thralls, his seducers, waiting, willing, whispering. Without thought, he arranged them into a well-worn pattern. On pure instinct he activated them and plowed power into them, a lot of power, too much power, far too much. The runes burned, brighter than the sun, and reality wrenched aside, rotating through the hidden spaces, rotating, rotating, hurtling, hurtling, spinning and falling and lunging and escaping—

"Stop!" he screamed, and still running he broke through into the real world. Ice splintered and cracked beneath his feet, unable to endure the stress of graceless, barely controlled magic. Fracture lines spread out all around him, like frozen spider webs on endless crystalline planes. Unearthly colors danced in the sky, ripples of green and red and violet, and the stars, so many stars, burned in pitiless white pinpoints.

Ashura stopped running. He pressed his hands to his face and sank to his knees on the crazed ice field, shaking so hard he felt his flesh might fly from his bones.

The real world, the outside world, was dark, dark and bitterly cold—as cold and dark as his heart, as frozen and black as his soul, as barren and cold as the future. It was midwinter, and in the north the days were short. In deep winter the sun set early, so early, and night reigned triumphant for many harsh months.

He quaked and shivered, from the bitter cold of the elements, and the bitter cold in his soul. The pressure within him built and built, relentless, unbearable, demanding release. Ashura threw back his head and howled to the sky, to the gods, to Seresu, and to his own lost soul.

The wind picked up, a mournful groan at first, but it grew stronger, louder. It swirled about him, blowing loose ice crystals, and as Ashura wailed, the wind wailed with him.

The sudden pain of nausea cut short his mindless screams. Ashura jerked to one side and violently emptied his stomach. He heaved and heaved, and heaved some more, until the wrenching spasms brought up only thin, yellow bile. The noisome mess steamed and melted a depression in the ice. Wiping his mouth, Ashura got up and moved away from it.

The wind gusted. He became aware that he was freezing, and if he didn't do something about it, he might very well freeze solid. He conjured a simple warming spell and felt somewhat better. The horrible pressure inside him had subsided. The screeching frenzy in his head receded and slowly loosened its ruthless grip on his thoughts. A peculiar sense of detachment replaced the overwhelming panic.

The wind died down, fading away as his emotions settled.

He reviewed his behavior with a certain horror. How unkingly, how childish, to flee from a fight with Kendappa. He tried to convince himself of his fit's triviality, but failed. He knew the ugly truth. He had not panicked because of the fight, but because of the underlying cause of the fight. Not the superficial reasons, not his cousin's fury at the arranged marriage, but because of his own vision of the future, of Kendappa's death at his hands.

Gasps escaped him again, but this time the fit was brief, smaller, and he was able to control himself. In any case, he felt exhausted, utterly drained, and lacked the energy for another extended flight. He raised dull eyes to survey his new surroundings, and experienced a tiny jolt and a bit of self-deprecating amusement. He had run far indeed: to the northernmost reaches of Seresu, a place of lifeless, unending ice fields. He must have been out of his mind to have teleported so far, with only the raw instinct of a hunted animal seeking refuge. No humans lived this far north, not even the few remaining nomadic tribes that hunted, fished, and herded in the harsh regions where no crops could be cultivated.

There was safety in solitude. Safety, and comfort.

He wished he could stay isolated forever. The inhuman beauty of the northern emptiness suited him. He felt an odd kinship with the barren cold and fathomless, eternal ice. It mirrored his bleak inner self, his desolate soul. It cared not for human concerns, and he took comfort in that primal indifference.

Overhead, the Gods' Sacred Fires rippled and shot streamers high into the sky. He watched the colorful curtains of light dance to celestial music only they could experience. He had nothing better to do in the emptiness and silence of the far north, and he did not desire to return to Luval. Not yet. He needed to breathe, just breathe, and be at peace for a time.

"You are far from home, O King of Seresu," a woman's strong contralto spoke, breaking the silence.

Ashura flinched and turned, and beheld three women—one a youthful maiden, one middle-aged, and one a crone. Their blue and black cloaks and their distinctive staves identified them. Völur. Seresu's sisterhood of wise women, its most secretive religious order, and its most powerful. Irritation flicked into his tattered emotions, and it pricked at his comfortable detachment. Even in the barren wastelands of the far north, he could not be alone.

"All of Seresu is my home," he replied, and felt relief when his voice remained steady.

The women smiled; his response had clearly pleased them.

Their response did not please him. The Völur rarely showed the proper respect to their king. "What do you here, in this barren waste at the north of the world?" His words were sharp; his annoyance with them became stronger. Gusts of air blew about him, reacting to his growing irritation.

"Ahhh," the women all sighed as one, pleased again, this time by the wind. Ashura scowled.

"Here there be no distractions," said the middle-aged woman. "Here all is pure, and the truth laid bare in all its dread glory. The breath of the Land is thine."

"The Land answers the King," said the maiden. "The Deep Places, and the Open Places. Earth and Sky, Lake and River, Mountain and Valley. The Plains of Forest, Rock, Ice, and Snow."

"Ever was it so," said the crone. "The King and the Land are One."

Fury rose in Ashura. He wanted to blast all three of them into ashes. He restrained himself. "Those words do not mean what you think," he snarled. Those words meant that the king was accursed, a monster who would shed his people's blood to steal magical power...

"But they do," said the crone, with a voice dark as raven feathers against fresh winter snow.

"They mean exactly what we think," said the middle-aged woman. Her eyes held in them the fruitfulness of summer, but her cloak rustled like dry leaves in fall.

"The Blessed Time approaches," said the maiden, and her smile was as sweet as the new buds of spring. "We have waited long for the Blessed Time, so very long."

What nonsense was this? The Blessed Time? He would destroy the entire country! What was blessed about that? It must have to do with that old, religious nonsense about his curse. Ashura swore aloud, hating the ancient religious beliefs of Seresu, those long-forgotten beliefs that considered the King's Madness to be both a blessing and a curse to the country. No one remembered the curse or its ravages. Only remnants of the old knowledge remained: the blessing, the superstition that the king's welfare was the country's welfare, and the religious rites like the King's Sacrifice in spring that commemorated the connection.

His eyes narrowed. The old beliefs and truths, it seemed, were not forgotten, not entirely. He had believed he was the only living person to know the real truth of them, but sometimes the Völur made odd, cryptic statements that made him question his certainty and wonder about them. Now his suspicions were confirmed. The Völur knew something, too, and the hints of their veiled knowledge bedeviled him. "What does the sisterhood know?" he demanded.

"We know the Will of the Gods," said the middle-aged woman. "We are their servants, their tools, their hands and voices, their sacrifices."

"We shall be the First, the Chosen Nine," said the crone. "We shall be the Most Willing. So much are we honored." She curtseyed deeply, reverently, to him. The other two Völur followed suit.

His fury grew. They weren't bowing to a king, but rather a religious promise, a cult object, an ancient obligation that he embodied. And as always, the Völur provided no real answers, but only riddles and obfuscations. "I command you to tell me what you know!"

In the blink of an eye, so fast he didn't see them move, the women surrounded him, forming a triangle with him at the center. Probably teleportation, he thought, but so fast, so seamless. They had changed position in less than an instant, without even a whisper of leaked magic, as though they had always been in their new positions. He had never seen the like. He tried to sense their power, but could not. They were like voids to him, empty spaces, as though they weren't even present. He turned about, glaring at each in turn, refusing to be impressed.

"You know," said the crone. "You know."

"You call it the Will of the Gods!" he shouted at them. "But it's not! It's the will of monsters and madmen!"

"It is the Will of the Gods," the middle-aged woman intoned. "It is all done by their will. Blessed be the Will of the Gods."

"It will destroy us all!" he roared. The wind howled, blowing his hair and garments, making the Völur's cloaks billow and swirl. How could they be happy about what was coming? There might be no way to prevent it, but to anticipate it and embrace it with joy? That was obscene. His hands clenched into fists; he so wanted to beat some sense into these crazy religious fanatics, to rend asunder their cult of cataclysm.

"Life endures," said the crone. "Life will endure so long as we bow to the Will of the Gods."

"Seresu will _not_ endure!" But he faltered as he spoke, and the wind died. Some of Seresu would endure. His own visions had shown him a colony of Seresians in another world, a colony that Fai would establish, a small part of Seresu that Fai would save.

And if he did not go mad with bloodlust, if he did not murder his people, Fai would never save any Seresians, not any. Fai would never be driven from Seresu, never go on his journey of destiny, and no worlds would survive. The universe itself would be torn asunder, destroyed for the sake of a mad sorcerer's unfathomable desires. There would be no life anywhere, anywhere at all. None.

The Will of the Gods? Uncertain, Ashura hesitated, hesitated, and he hated the Völur for being right. They were right, even if they didn't know the reasons and the details about why they were right. His heart pounded, and he pressed a hand to his chest in a futile effort to calm it.

"Accept the Will of the Gods, O Blessed King," sang the maiden.

The Will of the Gods, Ashura thought, and the Will of the Witch, the Witch of Dimensions. They marched together. They danced as one. Seresu would die, but from that death would come the salvation of all creation. It had been ordained from the very beginning of time.

The three Völur began to hum, and Ashura felt his strength leave him. A spell, it was a spell to quiet him physically and mentally. A simple spell, harmless, one he knew, one he used sometimes to calm Fai from tantrums before they became dangerous. He fought the enchantment, but it was too late and he was already ensnared. His thoughts grew hazy, and a sense of peace stole over him.

How amusing and annoying that the Völur viewed him as a child indulging in a tantrum, one who needed to be soothed.

"Accept our blessing, O Holy King," said the crone. She released her staff, and it stood upright on the ice, all by itself. She stepped forward.

Ashura couldn't protest, couldn't move. His limbs were dead weights, his mind numb. The crone was as tall as he was. She took his face in her hands. Shadows flickered on her aged visage, tinted by the luminous sheets of color rippling in the sky, and pure white stars were reflected in her ancient and knowing eyes. She kissed his left cheek.

"You must return home, O King of Seresu," she said, releasing him. "Should you tarry much longer, your loyal subjects will come for you. Your son will come for you."

"My son," Ashura murmured, feeling calm, serene. "My Fai. My joy, my heart."

"Yes," said the maiden.

"Yes, said the middle-aged woman.

Ashura cared not for Gods, Witches, or the fate of the universe. He would do it all for Fai. He had acknowledged that much truth about himself long ago. Everything was for Fai, only for Fai.

Such was the Will of the Gods, and the Will of the Witch, and it was right and proper. It was his role. He only existed for Fai. His life belonged to Fai.

"Go home and coddle your son," said the crone, stepping back and taking up her staff. "All is well. All is as it should be. Think of your son."

And they were gone. They just vanished, without even a trace of detectable magic, as though they had never been present at all. As though they had been but a dream.

Ashura was alone. Alone with the ice, and the dancing lights in the sky. Alone with silence and the stars.

The Völur's spell of repose faded, but his serenity remained.

Ashura took a deep breath of the cold, clear air. He glanced around one last time, absorbing the immensity of emptiness and primal beauty of the barren, northernmost lands of Seresu. Then he drew the translocation runes, and returned home.

 


	22. Chapter 22

Since he wasn't hiding his arrival, Ashura chose to materialize right in the center of Luval's Great Hall, and because he was feeling a touch perverse after his unexpected encounter with the Völur, he brought a frigid blast of the northern weather with him.

The courtiers recoiled with startled exclamations as the freezing air swept over them and dissipated. Ashura bit his lips to hide his grin. He busied himself with brushing ice crystals from his clothes and hair.

"That wasn't very nice, Your Majesty," came a reproving voice. Lord Vainamoinen tried to look stern, but his eyes were dancing. "I trust your temper has cooled now?"

"My temper?" Ashura asked, wondering what his liegeman was talking about.

"Before you departed, you were seen, uh," Vainamoinen hesitated, "proceeding through the castle halls in what was described as..." Vainamoinen paused again, and cleared his throat. "Well, as a fury. 'Enraged' was the word used." He very carefully did not name anyone.

"Oh." Actually, Ashura had no issue with the misinterpretation put on his panicked flight, and did not dispute it. He was rather pleased by it, as it removed the necessity of fabricating a set of lies to cover his behavior. For now, life must go on as normal, he told himself. Normal. "Yes," he said honestly, "I feel much better now." It was true. Despite his annoyance with the three Völur, both they and the cold purity of the far north had grounded him and reminded him of what was truly important in the greater scheme of things.

"May I ask what disturbed you so badly? Was it the argument with your cousin?"

Vainamoinen's words startled Ashura. He was certain Kendappa would not have spread word of their fight. She valued her dignity too highly. "How do you know about that?"

Vainamoinen lifted a brow. "Everyone knows about it," he said dryly. "Neither of you was particularly quiet, and there was quite a bit of damaged furniture to either repair or replace. I take it that Lady Kendappa was not overjoyed by the news of her impending betrothal."

"You have quite a way with understatement, my lord," Ashura murmured.

"So I have been told before." Vainamoin added with a brief quirk of his lips, "By you."

Ashura made a noncommittal humming noise and inclined his head.

A small whirlwind of blond energy bolted into the hall. Fai nearly ran headlong into Ashura. The boy was dressed for weapons training, although at present he was unarmed. "You were practically at the top of the world!" Fai exclaimed. "Why did you go there?" He grabbed Ashura's cloak and tugged. "Oh," he said, as some remaining, half-melted ice sprinkled down on him. "You're snowy." This last was delivered in an accusatory tone as Fai wiped the cold moisture off his face—by using the silk lining of Ashura's cloak as a towel.

Ashura just shook his head. "Hello, Fai," he said, ignoring the sounds of amusement from the courtiers surrounding them.

Fai scrubbed his hands in the fur trim of Ashura's cloak. "They wouldn't let me go to you," he said, in a high dudgeon. "They said you were really angry about something, but they wouldn't tell me what it was."

"They?"

"Lord Suhail and Lord Taishakuten. I wouldn't have let them stop me, but I could tell you weren't hurt or anything," Fai said proudly. "I didn't even have to cast a spell. I just knew. I felt it right away, and just by concentrating I could tell where you were." He frowned. "You were upset, and then you got really mad, and then you suddenly calmed down. I could tell."

Oh, dear. That had been the sequence of his emotional states. Ashura did not want Fai to know so much so easily. He would have to get better about hiding his true feelings, and needed to research some new spells to disguise his inner turmoil. "How clever of you," he said weakly. "It is just as well you did not follow me. They were correct that I was not fit to be seen in polite company."

And how true that statement was. But here now was the reason he kept living, as his encounter with the Völur had made clear to him. 'Coddle your son,' they had said, and Ashura intended to spend his life doing just that.

"What were you mad about?"

"Oh, nothing much, really. Just a small matter of politics."

Vainamoinen cleared his throat. "And you accuse me of understatement," he muttered. Ashura cast him a foul look.

Oblivious to the interplay among the adults, Fai said, "Lady Kendappa is mad about something, too. Everybody gets really nervous when both of you are mad at the same time."

"Yes, I'm sure they do." Ashura noted that Fai had said "Lady Kendappa is mad" rather than "was mad." The present tense was significant. He had hoped Kendappa would calm down, but it seemed she was still angry with him. Probably she had not yet had enough time to come to terms with reality.

Suhail and Taishakuten entered the Great Hall in a far more leisurely manner than Fai had. Suhail had chosen to walk, and at a slow pace, too. Taishakuten strolled alongside the wizard. Ashura wondered if they had deliberately taken their time. Probably. Given that everyone thought he had been furious, they had likely waited for Fai to distract him.

He noted that Taishakuten was, like Fai, dressed for the practice field, and drew the logical conclusion. "I see your tutor in arms has arrived, Fai. I assume you are truant from a lesson?"

"Swordsmanship, Your Majesty," Lord Taishakuten said with an elegant, courtly bow. "The short sword today."

Fai groaned.

"Wooden practice swords, I trust?" asked Ashura.

"Of course, Majesty," Taishakuten confirmed.

Fai was still too unskilled for live steel, and would not be allowed to handle real swords until Ashura deemed him ready. He would never be more than an indifferent swordsman, Ashura reflected, although he showed great natural ability and creativity with every other weapon he encountered. Fai could, in fact, even turn ordinary objects to martial use when it suited him. It was quite odd, but it was the way of things with Fai. Perhaps he had had a bad experience with swords once, and had not yet overcome it. Fai's past was full of bad experiences.

Still, for the sake of his future, Fai needed to possess some rudimentary skill with swords, just in case he landed in a bad situation without any other kind of weapon at hand. At the very least, such training would teach Fai how to defend against swords. That was true of any weapon. Fai would learn to predict the ways in which many types of weapons might be used against him, and how to avoid and counter them.

Ashura was not going to send Fai into his future battles with any gaps in his training, even if Fai didn't make offensive use of some of that training. Defense was equally valuable when one's life was endangered. "Was the lesson finished?" Ashura asked Taishakuten.

The warlord shrugged. "We could have spent more time on drills."

Fai groaned again.

"Then you must continue," Ashura decreed. "Off you go, Fai. Finish your lesson."

Fai heaved a theatrical sigh, hung his head, and trudged after Taishakuten.

"Lord Fai asked a very good question, Majesty, and I myself am curious," said Vainamoinen after Fai and Taishakuten were gone. "I can understand why you might want to remove yourself from company after your fi—er, your disagreement with your cousin, but why so far north?"

"It was peaceful there," Ashura said simply, omitting the full story. Vainamoinen did not need to know that Ashura had simply been running mindlessly, nor the reason for that crazed flight. "The solitude was welcome." Well, it had been solitary for a few minutes, at any rate, before the Völur had interrupted his panic attack. Ashura crooked a finger at Suhail, beckoning him forward. "My Lord Wizard, a word, if you please."

"Majesty," Suhail gave a little bow.

"You know where I went." It was not a question. Ashura knew his court wizards kept tabs on him, almost as closely as Fai.

"Yes, Majesty," Suhail confirmed. "I informed Lord Vainamoinen and a few others, so there would be no excessive worries about your absence."

"Do the Völur often frequent such northern climes?"

Suhail jerked in surprise. "What?"

"You have kin among them. Do they often travel to the far north?"

"Not that I am aware, Your Majesty."

Ashura noted that, for once, Suhail did not indulge in any word games when questioned about the Völur. It seemed he really didn't believe the sacred sisterhood commonly ventured to the far north. Ashura disliked the implication of that. He didn't like the idea that the Völur were tracking his movements.

The encounter bothered him. It had been surreal, and had felt almost like a dream. His own mental state had been disturbed and off-balance. Had they really been there at all? Had it all been a waking dream?

No, he was certain they had been there.

"Majesty, why do you ask? Did you meet Völur there?" Suhail asked, still looking innocent.

Perhaps a little too innocent? Not for the first time, Ashura wondered how much contact Suhail maintained with his Völur relations. "Yes," Ashura said shortly. "I thought it odd, but perhaps they, too, sometimes need a little solitude." He revealed no more about the encounter. For now it was better to say too little, rather than expose too much. "Where is my cousin? Sulking, I presume?"

Suhail said nothing. Vainamoinen chewed his lip and averted his eyes.

Such eloquent responses. Kendappa's presence must have been a horror while he'd been off screaming his lungs out in the far north. She was well known for her sharp tongue, even when she was in a good mood. It was probably just as well she was now playing least-in-sight. Clearly, Suhail and Vainamoinen didn't mind that state of affairs. At least Luval Castle was still standing.

Ashura wanted to make up with her, but protocol, training, and long habit did not permit that indulgence. He could not be seen to weaken in decisions regarding the welfare of Seresu. The public reason for Kendappa's betrothal was to strengthen the country by alliance with Thule. He was king. It was her place to come to him and beg pardon. He could not bend first, nor would he. Let her sulk as long as she liked, he decided. At least she had a chance to survive the future, now.

Ashura mouthed some polite inanity to his liegemen about Kendappa's vagaries and how he expected her current huff to be brief. They nodded and smiled. Then Ashura excused himself, saying that he wanted to watch Fai train and assess his son's progress.

In truth, Ashura was starting to desire escape again. He wanted to get out of Luval entirely, again. He wanted to go riding hell-for-leather across a field. He wanted to go on a hunt, race alongside a pack of dogs and kill a stag or boar, or set his favorite hawks to bring down some game birds. He wanted to do anything but his duty.

But normalcy must be maintained. Normalcy must be maintained for years and years, until Fai was grown up, until the murder of Seresu approached. And even then, even as Seresu died, he would lie and maintain the appearance of normalcy...

Fai was always an excellent excuse when Ashura wanted to escape his ordinary, day-to-day obligations. No one questioned his devotion to his son. His closest companions might sometimes look askance upon his methods and indulgences of Fai, but they usually supported him, nonetheless.

However, with his emotions warring inside him, he really just wanted to avoid all company and conversation.

There was only one training court cleared of the midwinter snow and ice, and that was where Ashura found Fai and Taishakuten. He hung back in the doorway and wrapped his cloak tightly about himself for warmth, hiding in shadows so his presence wouldn't distract the lesson. Not that there was much of a lesson going on. Just repetition as Taishakuten drilled Fai on footwork and stances. Ashura smiled, understanding perfectly why Fai had not wanted to continue. He was probably bored to death.

Ashura withdrew. He had gone to watch Fai's training, as he had told his courtiers. His stated obligation fulfilled, he retreated to his private quarters to snatch a little more peace from solitude.

 


	23. Chapter 23

Two days passed with a distinct lack of excitement. Kendappa stayed withdrawn from the court, not even coming to public meals. The royal lady was indisposed, one of Kendappa's ladies in waiting explained to His Majesty in her best deferential manner, and preferred to take her meals in private.

Ashura accepted the falsehood in good humor, as he had been expecting a long sulk from his cousin. He predicted the snowcat would emerge from her den soon. Kendappa liked being the center of attention too much to stay out of sight for very long.

In truth, he was glad she had absented herself from his presence these past two days. He had feared that seeing her again too soon might trigger his old vision of her death yet again, and perhaps even cause him another panic attack. This way, they could both settle down and recover their outward composure.

Preparations for the midwinter festival proceeded. Kendappa's influence on those activities was unmistakable, though she acted through her ladies and servants. Ashura let her manage the arrangements _in absentia_. From the looks of things, she was spending a great deal of his money, far more than normal. That was probably a bit of revenge on her part. He bore it all without complaint.

Some of the envoys from Lintukoto and Thule had returned home to relay to their masters Ashura's acceptance of their proposals, and to pass on the preliminary terms Ashura had set. A few from each kingdom remained for continued negotiations. No one was in serious disagreement about the particulars. For the present, all the kingdoms were on excellent terms with each other, and no one wanted to disturb that peace.

Ashura dropped the tiresome legal details of the betrothals into Vainamoinen's lap. That worthy gentleman, he knew, did not take care of everything personally, but oversaw the army of councilors, financial advisors, land and law experts, scribes, messengers, and all the other near-infinite personnel required for the arrangement of two royal marriages. Ashura dictated what he desired, and reviewed everything done to be certain his instructions had been followed. Vainamoinen was quite efficient and competent, and rarely did Ashura need to make any corrections. He did sometimes change his mind and stipulate different conditions, though, and often those instructions resulted in certain preliminary clauses needing to be completely reworked.

It annoyed his underlings, but Ashura never worried about such things. Liegemen and servants existed to serve him, so serve him they would. And they did, excellently. The marriage contracts and arrangements had begun in a satisfactory manner, though they wouldn't be finished for quite some time.

After his latest review, he noted that it was the usual time when Taishakuten trained Fai. Ashura took a break and went to observe. He enjoyed watching his son grow in competence and confidence, though sword training remained problematic due to Fai's lack of enthusiasm for the weapon. Taishakuten was always meticulous and patient in his training methods, but sometimes Fai could try even the most forbearing of souls. Still, no matter how unwilling the student, the grounding he received from Taishakuten's instruction was sound and would stick with him for life.

Ashura lurked in the entrance to the training field, staying in the shadows, as had become recent habit for him. He told himself he didn't want to interrupt or distract the principals, but that was only partially true. Granted, were he observed everyone present would feel the need to bow and offer pleasantries, which would disrupt the session. Yet, he also kept unobtrusive because he simply didn't want to interact with them. It would prick at his conscience. He always felt a little guilty about his real reasons for Fai's training.

It was foolish. All royal children received a wide breadth of martial instruction from the best available tutors. This was no different, really. There was nothing unusual about Fai's training, nothing that Ashura would have done differently, even were the future different and life normal.

Ashura knew that Taishakuten's skills were a match for his own, and Taishakuten was the best tutor available at present. He did not like to consider that Taishakuten might even be better at swordsmanship than he. In any case, it was impractical for Ashura to train Fai himself. Fai should be trained by someone who did not fret over every small cut and scrape. Ashura knew he was too fond to be effective. He almost panicked when Fai simply fell down, which pretty much disqualified him for the role of Fai's primary weapons instructor.

At the moment Taishakuten's qualifications as teacher were being tested. He was, rather futilely, attempting to get Fai to attack him with more than token, tepid force. The warlord commanded his young charge, "Step and thrust," while stepping backward and parrying with his wooden sword. "Step and thrust. Harder. Commit to the attack. Again!"

Fai did better when they switched directions, with Taishakuten attacking and Fai defending. Fai demonstrated his agility, evading Taishakuten's swings and thrusts with graceful dexterity. He didn't even bother parrying the offensive sword, instead simply moving aside, as though he were made of air.

"That's good," Taishakuten told him, "but you must also counter my blows. You need to feel the shock of impact with your own sword."

And they began again.

Fai's reluctance with the sword really was most strange, Ashura thought. A wooden sword wasn't all that much different than a short staff, and in fact used many of the same techniques. Fai always performed excellently with the short staff, so clearly the moves were not beyond him. Ashura wondered what it would take to get Fai to really use the weapon as it was intended.

Taishakuten found out. After another attempt to get Fai into offensive attack, he glanced aside, grimacing as though restraining great frustration—which he probably was. He caught sight of Ashura, and suddenly smiled. Ashura didn't like the look of that particular smile. It boded ill, but Ashura didn't interfere. Fai needed to learn about ruthlessness. It was, after all, one reason Ashura had chosen Taishakuten to tutor Fai.

"Lord Fai," Taishakuten said, "you want to defend your loved ones, don't you? You want to protect your father, the king?"

Fai looked confused. "Yes."

"Then imagine this: A great, unknown cataclysm has stolen all the magic from Seresu. There are no wizards anymore. You and the king have lost all your magic, and must rely upon ordinary weapons to save yourselves."

Ashura started at that description. The part about a cataclysm stealing all Seresu's magic struck a little too close for comfort. At the end, he would be the cataclysm that stole all Seresu's magic—and its very life.

"You only have a sword to fight with," said Taishakuten, "and I am your father's mortal enemy. My army has fought its way into Luval Castle."

Fai looked more confused, and a touch upset.

"I will kill the king to conquer Seresu. I will shove my sword through the center of his chest. The blade will cut through his flesh and bones like butter, and emerge through his back, silver and red. Imagine it, I will conquer your father and have him dying at my feet. There is blood everywhere. I will yank my sword out of his body," and Taishakuten mimicked that motion with the smooth, practiced ease of one who has performed an act many, many times before, "and wipe clean my blade on his royal robes as he bleeds out and gasps his last breath. That is the way of conquest."

Ashura looked on, appalled yet fascinated. He should stop this, he knew. Taishakuten was going too far. Yet he couldn't look away. Something about the scene Taishakuten had fabricated riveted Ashura. He felt the most peculiar sense of _déjà vu_ at Taishakuten's words, as though a like event had happened before. Yet he was alive, and Taishakuten a known loyalist.

It wasn't such a far-fetched story, though, and that probably accounted for Ashura's sense of familiarity with it. Every word Taishakuten spoke was a potential truth. It didn't take much imagination to picture the scenario, with King Skudra or Crown Prince Davros of Arimaspea as the would-be conqueror. In fact, it didn't take much to envision Taishakuten in the role, either...

"No, you won't do that," Fai said, clutching his wooden sword. "You're loyal to him. You...you like him. You want to be here at court."

"But imagine instead that I am his mortal enemy," Taishakuten contradicted him. With a contemptuous gesture, he flipped his long, platinum hair over his shoulder. "I am Seresu's conqueror. As victor, I will chop your father's head off and take it for a trophy. I will hold it up by the hair to show my army, and they will cheer, and my vanquished foes will all weep with despair." He lowered his practice sword. "That is what an enemy would do given the chance. I say again, you have only a sword, no magic. How will you save your father from his sworn enemy?" He deliberately left his sword arm hanging lax at his side.

"I will kill anyone who tries it," Fai hissed.

"You have no magic. You have only a sword," Taishakuten jeered. "How will you protect your king without magic?" He brought his own wooden sword up just in time to stop the blow Fai launched against him. Fai followed up with another strike, and another.

Ashura almost ordered them to stop, but then he got a look at Fai's face. The boy did not appear hysterical, frantic, or terrified, as he had during the attempted assassination in Spou. He looked enraged, and also grimly determined.

Ashura had seen similar expressions before on blooded warriors.

"Yes, yes, that's it!" Taishakuten said, stepping back and shifting from side to side while parrying the wild blows from his young opponent. "Keep up the pressure on me! But stay controlled. Strike efficiently, deliberately, at my vitals, at my throat, at any place vulnerable—"

Fai struck at him over and over, advancing with each strike, the assaults gaining speed and strength. Taishakuten grinned, victorious, pushing Fai to work harder with his attacks.

Ashura wasn't sure if he should be pleased or appalled. At least Taishakuten seemed to have broken through Fai's mental block against swords, but the way he had done it...

"Vicious, heartless, and bordering on treasonous, but effective," said a feminine voice near him. Ashura turned his head. Kendappa stood behind him. He had been so engrossed in the picture Taishakuten had painted that he hadn't noticed her arrival. Her lips, he saw, were curved into a slight smile, and she looked approving.

"I had wondered what would get Fai to use a sword offensively," Ashura said softly. "I am both gratified and horrified."

"An understandable dilemma." She moved to stand at his shoulder. "But it should not surprise you. Fai's reactions were entirely predictable, as was made quite clear back at Spou. The memory of that incident is probably where Taishakuten got the idea. Though he is very lucky Fai didn't scorch off all that glorious hair."

"The ladies of the court would have been inconsolable." Ashura was aware many of the court ladies swooned over Taishakuten's flowing platinum locks.

"Myself, included," Kendappa said, smiling. "Fortunately, his lordship's follicles remain intact."

Ashura snorted. He watched Fai and Taishakuten train, saying, "Taishakuten knew I was here the whole time."

Kendappa raised her brows. "He's a brave man." She cast a sly glance at her cousin. "And you a very forbearing king to let it go unchallenged. Or are you now plotting revenge?"

"I will let it pass this time. It did accomplish its objective, after all." How to explain to her the weird fascination the scenario had held for him? He could not even explain it to himself. Perhaps something similar had happened in a forgotten dream of another life, and that was why it rang so true to him. "However, I will request that he not repeat that particular training exercise."

"A king's request carries the weight of a command."

"Indeed."

They watched the practice for a few minutes more, both silent. Ashura waited for Kendappa to tell him why she had sought him out. He suspected she had come to make up, but he would not speak first. That was her place. He focused on Fai's training, and was sorry to see Fai's strikes again becoming tepid. It would take time to accustom Fai to the training. At least the boy had made a little progress beyond his usual dodge, duck, and evade games.

Finally, Kendappa spoke. "I'm still angry with you."

Ashura nodded and said, "I know." He turned and walked back into the castle, not wanting to have this conversation where Fai might hear.

Kendappa walked with him. "Some of my ladies have asked to accompany me to Thule."

Ashura admired her style and subtlety. With the simple, matter-of-fact statement that she was going to Thule, she let him know that, while she was still unhappy, she had conceded and would stop making a fuss. "Is that so?" he inquired, strolling aimlessly through a passageway.

"The younger, unmarried ones think it will be a great adventure. They have romantic notions and hope to wed some exotic foreign nobleman. The older ones and the widows are looking for a change of scenery. I believe a few of my married ladies will request for their husbands to come along in some official capacity, as well."

"King Jarilo's court is varied and cultivated. I can understand their desire to experience its pleasures, and to see more of the world," Ashura said, and sweetened the pot by adding, "Thule is a large kingdom, with kinder weather than we endure, and better farmland. Several of the bigger cities are major trade centers. King Jarilo is very wealthy, and has a reputation for sophistication in all things."

Kendappa made a short "hm" noise.

"He is also considered to be a strong leader and warrior," Ashura said, giving her another sop. Kendappa worshipped strength. A truly strong man should be irresistible to her. Ashura was certain of it. Look at her fondness for Taishakuten, who, while having a well-earned reputation for cruelty and brutality, was one of the strongest and most successful warriors in all of Seresu. Ashura sometimes tired of hearing about Taishakuten's "strength" from Kendappa, a feature she admired more than his hair, even when she was annoyed with him. "Jarilo leads his own troops into battle, and stories have been told of how he once slew fifty enemy warriors single-handedly."

"An exaggeration, no doubt," Kendappa murmured, but her gaze sharpened with interest.

"I'm certain the story was embellished by some bard who sang at court to celebrate the victory, and in the retellings King Jarilo's accomplishments have undoubtedly grown somewhat," Ashura said with a smile. It seemed he had finally struck the right note with her. "But I have seen firsthand his prowess in arms and at war. Honestly, Kendappa, he is worthy of you."

Just the fact that this marriage would get Kendappa out of Seresu made King Jarilo worthy, no matter his accolades or achievements, but Ashura wasn't going to admit to that. A great, state marriage would suit Kendappa's sense of self-worth, a powerful, confident king would suit her obsession with strength, and the appearance of normalcy would suit Ashura's long-range plans. He would save Kendappa, and no one would ever find fault with his methods, or harbor suspicions that all was not as it appeared. Political marriage was the normal fate of princesses and princes.

That old vision of her death did not rise before his eyes again. Perhaps he was now free of it. Perhaps, even after two days, traces of the calming spell those three, highly unusual Völur had cast upon him still remained and only suppressed that distressing nightmare. He didn't care. The belief that he had saved his cousin lightened his heart, and even if it was only a comforting illusion, he would accept its promise and allow nothing to darken his mood.

"It will be good for you to have some of your own ladies and servants about you in Thule," he commented.

"I plan to take as many of my personal household as will go with me," she said in a challenging tone. "My laundress, dressers, private musicians, and the like. Also, I expect to maintain control over the income from my estates. You will see to it that the marriage contract specifies that necessity?" Her tone stated plainly that he had better see to her interests, or else.

"Some customs will be different in Thule," Ashura said, "and you will be provided with regular servants by the king's household, but specialized servants usually accompany their masters and mistresses." His late queen had brought quite a few ladies and servants from her home in Lintukoto, and though many had returned after her death, a few had made lives for themselves in Seresu. "As for your autonomy regarding your revenues, yes, I will see to it. I will make certain that Jarilo does not receive control of your Seresian lands. I expect I will be required to add to your dowry to convince Jarilo to accept those terms," he added with a sigh.

"That is your problem, as you are the one arranging this match," was her heartless reply.

Ashura winced, which made her smile. In the normal course of events, a woman's personal property, or extra properties and monies settled on her as part of her marriage, were considered her dowry, and her husband would expect to make use of that money and property.

It was possible to write the marriage contract so that Kendappa could keep control of her own property, and it was sometimes done with other royal marriages. In this case, however, it would be a legal fiction, as Ashura intended to assume ownership and simply assign the revenue to her. It would add many complications, but Ashura did not begrudge them, and not just for Kendappa's sake. Ashura did not want Thule to acquire any kind of real control over even a small part of Seresu. He would need all his people in the future. He would not lessen their numbers by any amount, not even for Kendappa's marriage, so would make up the difference with gold.

Jarilo would expect a great deal, Ashura was sure. The dowries involved in royal marriages were enormous. Ashura would be required to add a huge amount to Kendappa's assets: At least fifty thousand ounces of gold was fitting for the future Queen of Thule, in addition to her own jewels, rich clothing, plate, and furniture. Probably the monetary amount would be even greater. However, a woman's husband was also expected to endow his bride with a dower that was, in theory, hers alone. In this case, that wouldn't be strictly necessary, as Kendappa would receive revenues from the royal Seresian estates, but Ashura intended to insist Jarilo accede to the custom and pledge a generous portion to her. She would need its security when Seresu died and her Seresian income ceased flowing to her.

Both kings would feel some financial pain with this marriage, but it was all worth it. Ashura would make sure the contract was written so that, if Jarilo died before Kendappa, and there were no children between them, all of Kendappa's dowry would revert to her and, by default, Seresu. Ashura hoped that would not happen—he wanted Kendappa to stay out of Seresu, and she would certainly return should her husband die too soon—but the detail would make Kendappa happy, so he would include it.

"As you wish, cousin," he said seriously. "I will protect your interests, Kendappa, never fear." Then he added in a lighter, playful tone, "I should be forever honored to attend to such a gracious princess's lightest requests and whims."

She laughed, a merry, bell-like sound, and it pleased his ears. He held out his arm, and she placed her hand upon his wrist. He would encourage the envoys from Thule to tell many tales of their king's strength and prowess in war, and also of his sophistication and wealth. With luck, Kendappa would absorb those stories and become reconciled to her marriage.

"Before you confirm the appointments of your ladies, I would beg a favor of you," he said. He stopped walking before they reached the Great Hall. Kendappa stopped with him.

"Yes?" she said.

"Watch the court with your oh-so-discerning eyes, and see if any of the wealthier unmarried ladies favor Syed, or if he favors any of them." At her curious glance, Ashura explained, "He has been an excellent servant of late, and I am seeking a reward for him. The heiress of a titled estate would be most suitable."

"You aren't just choosing one for him and ordering the marriage?" she asked archly. A hint of resentment colored her tone.

"I might, depending upon what you report to me."

"Marriage is much on your mind," she said with cynicism. "Me, Tancred, even Syed..." Kendappa eyed him. "Or perhaps I should say political gain through marriage. What about yourself? The council would be overjoyed, and alliances through the marriage bed are as much your duty as mine and Tancred's. Do you have another in mind?"

"Perhaps," Ashura lied in a transparent attempt to mollify her.

Kendappa looked disbelieving, but did not contradict him. Instead, she said demurely, "I will watch the court and see who might suit Syed." She looked forward again and changed the subject. "If you're interested, I have begun the preparations for the midwinter festival."

"Of course, I am interested," Ashura said, mostly for the sake of peace with her. He had already seen the work she had ordered while cloistered, and his account books overflowed with evidence of her recent spending. "Your parties and feasts are always excellent."

"This will be the most lavish Lighting Festival ever. I will make it an event to be remembered for all our lifetimes."

The Festival of Lighting the Night at midwinter was usually poorly attended. The court at Luval tended to be thin of company during the harshest days of deep winter, as the majority of the nobility stayed home on their own estates. The wild, stormy weather, heavy snows, and limited daylight kept most from traveling by conventional means. Noble magicians attended, but usually did not bring many family members or servants, as they tended to perform the translocations themselves. Some non-mage noblemen hired magicians to teleport them and small retinues, but magical translocation was quite an expensive way to travel for those who did not have the power to transport their own luggage and people.

In light of the limitations, the winter festival at Luval was kept relatively small, and invitations issued only to those of means who could attend without hardship. Of course, "small" was a matter of opinion and degree. Even minor celebrations at Luval were important events with a plethora of excellent food, drink, and entertainments. Still, Ashura wondered why Kendappa would make such a point of expanding the winter feast beyond the normal extravagances. "You plan to beggar me with the winter festival?"

"It will be my last one," she said softly. "The Queen of Thule will celebrate the holidays of Thule. This will be my last festival in Seresu, with my family. I want it to be special."

Her last? Though Ashura wanted her to leave Seresu, he hadn't quite considered it in those blunt terms, and her words shook him. His own machinations had brought this about. He hoped his plans for her succeeded, and she never came back, but the thought that she'd never preside over another festival in Luval... He prayed that he wasn't causing both of them misery for nothing. He took a deep breath and let it out in a long, slow exhalation. "Perhaps not your last," he finally said, unable to bear the defeated ideas trying to niggle into his head. "Negotiations for royal marriages are neither simple nor quick."

She looked at him curiously.

He continued, as much to console himself as her, "They involve many legalities, endless wrangling over money and land, trade relations, and what each kingdom owes the other in terms of military and political support. They can take many months. Some have been known to take years." Not this one, though. He would not let this opportunity slip through his fingers. Jarilo might withdraw the offer and seek a queen elsewhere should Ashura dither too long. No, Ashura would not allow that to happen. He would see Kendappa married to Jarilo and out of Seresu within the year. But a few extra months... That much time was normal. It wouldn't hurt.

And the appearance of normalcy had to be maintained. People might ask uncomfortable questions were he to rush through the negotiations for such an important state marriage.

It was as good an excuse as any.

Kendappa smiled brilliantly at him, and took his hand between both of her own. "Thank you, cousin," she said, and kissed his cheek.


	24. Chapter 24

Over the next several weeks, Ashura saw plenty of evidence that Kendappa was fulfilling her promise to make the midwinter Lighting Festival the most lavish in living memory. After emerging from her seclusion, she orchestrated everything personally. Evergreens were plentiful in the wintry Riphean Mountains, and she made good use of them. Swags and garlands of pine, holly, and fir festooned the entire castle. They were entwined with silvery birch branches and wrapped with silk ribbons and strings of colorful beads. The finest scented beeswax candles added their warmth to the magelights that illuminated even the darkest winter days. Extravagant, embroidered tapestries of silk, gold threads, pearls from Seresu's rivers, and precious gems from its mines, reserved for only the most special occasions, hung on the walls of the Great Hall.

Extra musicians and entertainers had been engaged from Luval Town, livestock penned and slaughtered, and an enormous amount of foodstuffs purchased. The kitchens ran day and night. A constant parade of merchants bearing wine, ale, cloth, and all manner of goods passed through the castle gates. The local economy was certainly being well stimulated, Ashura reflected humorously.

As a normal part of the celebrations, and in acknowledgement of the harsh, unforgiving season, food and clothing were distributed to the poor. This year a great deal extra was sent out. The castle also was covering many of the costs for some additional celebrations in the town, along with some special treats of sweets and entertainments for the townsfolk.

Kendappa was outstanding at spending money, and the glittering results were spectacular. Ashura assumed that every celebration she arranged until she finally went to Thule would be every bit as expensive and ostentatious. He turned a blind eye, and let her spend as much as she liked.

Most of the guests had already arrived, his late brother's family included. Fai had been excused from his studies for the duration, and was spending much time romping with Mielu and Virender.

Lord Ilmarinen had also arrived with his wife and a large retinue in tow. Vainamoinen welcomed his older brother quite cordially, and arranged for excellent accommodations for his family in the castle. Taishakuten also greeted Ilmarinen with warmth and congeniality. Ilmarinen returned the pleasantries with apparent goodwill. Smiles were exchanged all around. Not a single tooth was gritted, and no words of discord were uttered.

Such wonderful, false amity was rather cloying, and no one believed for an instant that it would last for very long. All eyes watched the three powerful magnates with great expectation of fireworks. The royal court thrived on intrigue and gossip, and the courtiers had every expectation of being delighted by violent outbursts from the well-known antagonists. But for the present, the gossipmongers were disappointed. Vainamoinen, Ilmarinen, and Taishakuten managed to stay civil with one another.

Ashura hoped the truce stayed in effect for the duration of the festival.

To escape the increased tensions of his court, Ashura wandered the halls, taking in the growing display. A flash of movement out of the corner of his eye made him turn, and he spotted the children racing past an open doorway. They disappeared as quickly as they had appeared. Smiling, he returned his attention to the festive decorations.

The embellished boughs had transformed recently. They now shimmered as though covered in iridescent dewdrops lit by a sunrise. Ashura wondered how Kendappa had managed that effect. Every pine and fir decoration that he saw during his perambulations glowed with delicate, surreal mists of color. A taste of magic hung near them. He looked closely, and beheld innumerable tiny rainbows nestled among the needles and red holly berries. He touched one of the rainbows. It scintillated with movement, and the magic became familiar.

Prismatic rainbow illusions, and all bearing the signature of one particular magician. Realization struck as the three children reappeared and ran toward him. Virender and Mielu were laughing, but as usual, Fai, while energetic and looking proud, didn't even smile.

"Do you like the rainbows?" Fai asked eagerly. "I put them all over the castle!"

Ashura smiled at him. "They're beautiful. I like them very much."

"Lady Kendappa let me help her. She said they added the perfect touch. I set the spell this morning."

"You did all this with just one spell?" Ashura asked, impressed. Such a display required immense control and imagination. He looked around. So many tiny drops of rainbow light, so countless, glistening in every evergreen decoration like tiny, colorful stars.

"Fai did it all by himself," Mielu said with wide eyes. "I've never seen anyone light an entire castle with just one spell before."

"Fai is very talented," Ashura said. Indeed, most magicians would need to perform the spell multiple times to cover so many decorations with rainbows. He wished he had seen Fai cast the spell. He might have learned something, himself.

Fai straightened, but admitted, "I didn't create the spell, though. Lord Syed taught it to me."

"Yes, I know." Ashura remembered asking Syed to teach Fai the simple spell as a distraction back in Spou. "I'm sure he didn't teach you how to light the entire castle with rainbows, though. You have turned it to such a wonderful effect. It's amazing, Fai."

Virender said, "If you think this is amazing, you should see what he did outside!"

"Outside? In the courtyards?" Ashura was curious about what Fai could have done. Luval Mountain floated high above the earth in the Riphean mountain range. There weren't many decent places to decorate outside, unless the children had gone down to the defensive installations on the grounds beneath the floating castle. Besides, the castle's transparent, multihued wings provided plenty of outdoor color when the daylight faded.

Fai scuffed his toe. "It's been too cloudy and glum to see the Fires in the sky, so I thought people might like something else for the festival."

"What people? The garrison quartered beneath the Mountain?"

"Yes! Them and the townsfolk, too!" Mielu gushed. "Fai took us to the town, and we set up a beautiful display for them."

Ashura bestowed a disapproving look on his son. "Fai, did you take Mielu and Virender outside the castle grounds without any attendants?"

"It was safe," Fai protested. "Everybody in Luval Town knows me! Besides, I took care of them. I wouldn't let anything happen to them. You know I wouldn't."

Ashura was certain of that, but he didn't want any repeats of the incident in Spou. Fai's "protection" could be overenthusiastic, and Ashura didn't trust Fai's assessment of threats. Ashura didn't really believe that the children would be in danger in the town, but one never knew.

However, Fai was correct that the townsfolk knew him. They were quite fond of him, and would protect him and his adoptive cousins from trouble. But even though Ashura believed Fai, Mielu, and Virender had been safe, Fai's behavior could set a bad precedent. Ashura couldn't have all the royal children wandering about the countryside heedlessly and making targets of themselves. He allowed Fai that freedom, but Fai's situation was far different than Mielu or Virender's.

"Did you two ask your mother before you left?" he asked the other miscreants. He already knew the answer, and got the expected evasion and inarticulate hemming in response. "I see."

"Don't be angry," Virender pleaded. "We promise not to do it again."

"Yes," said Mielu. "It was only this once, and the townsfolk were so happy. They love it. Please don't tell Mother."

They looked so sad, with their big eyes and distressed, contrite expressions. What excellent little actors they were, Ashura thought with amusement. Such perfect royal children and future political players. Honestly, they weren't bad children, just mischievous. And they were strong magicians. Ashura felt himself weakening. Hadn't he run off on his own many times in his youth? They deserved to take joy in their childhood follies, before the demands of royal duties stole their innocence, and before their uncle the king stole their lives.

With that last thought, Ashura resolved to find a way to marry both of them out of the country, as he had done for Kendappa.

"Very well," he relented foolishly to their false contrition, and felt no guilt whatsoever about doing so. "As long as you don't do it again." His own such promises to his elders back in his childhood had been worthless, and he knew Virender and Mielu's would hold just as much value. He would warn the wizards and castle guards to keep closer watch on the children during the festival.

"Oh, thank you, Uncle," Mielu said, throwing her arms around his waist.

Virender echoed, "Thank you, Uncle."

"You really do need to see the decorations outside," Mielu gushed. She turned her head to Fai, who was looking subdued.

As he ought, Ashura thought. Fai had many unusual privileges, and he should know better than to presume too far. Later they would have to discuss this latest breach. Fai should not lead his cousins into trouble.

Then again, it was quite probable that they had talked him into it, being irrepressible little demons. Ashura thought it rather likely that they had been the ones most at fault, but even so, Fai should not have given in to their wishes. The scolding, Ashura decided, would be mild, just enough to remind Fai of his responsibilities and to exercise better sense.

He looked at his incorrigible niece and nephew, mentally assigned all blame to them, and reduced the mild scolding he planned to a simple "Don't do it again, Fai."

It hardly seemed worth the effort, really.

"Fai," Mielu encouraged, "you should take him to see it. Oh, Uncle, it's so amazing."

Fai said timidly, "Would you like to see it, Your Majesty?"

Fai's reservation—so at odds with Virender and Mielu's carelessness—saddened Ashura a little. Virender and Mielu were always free with expressions of familial endearment, most especially when they wanted something, the little brats. But the way Fai addressed him remained formal, despite his playmates' bad examples. When Fai was more casual, he simply avoided any form of direct address to Ashura.

It was for the best, Ashura told himself. He had implicitly encouraged the behavior. In the past, it had served to help squelch the rumors that Fai was his illegitimate son and a contender for the throne. The scurrilous gossip about Fai's parentage did no harm, which was just as well because it had never died. Most people still believed it. But the rumor that Ashura might make Fai his heir could cause endless trouble, and had been thoroughly invalidated in as many ways as Ashura and his council could devise.

Fai's reservation should also help the boy in the future, when his happy life turned to horror and he would be required to do the unthinkable and kill his king. Ashura had always believed that a little distance would be a good thing when that dreadful time came. But he hated himself for the denial, and felt they were both missing out on something normal and wonderful. He wondered if perhaps he should bend just a little in the matter of address, but as usual came to no decisive conclusions.

Ashura smiled at his son. "Yes, indeed, Fai. After such effusive praise, I would love to see the marvels you have wrought." He looked over all the children. "However, I expect everyone to dress appropriately for the weather. Fetch your warm coats, boots, and gloves, and I will arrange for a small retinue suitable for a quiet public appearance."

A double set of disappointed groans assaulted his ears. Virender and Mielu had enjoyed their taste of the freedom Fai took for granted, and had hoped Ashura's leniency could be pushed farther. Fai, bless him, had enough sense and dignity to stay quiet. Ashura told his niece and nephew, "Public decorum is the price of my silence. Else your mother would have much to say to us all."

That threat silenced all complaints. The children's mother, Lady Sybilla, had a tongue every bit as sharp as Kendappa's, and she would be quite justified in her complaints. Ashura turned to one of the servants that always seemed to be nearby him, no matter where he went in the castle. They kept their presences unobtrusive. He rarely noticed them unless he needed them, which he knew was the basic idea. "Go inform Lord Matas that I am taking the children for a short visit to the town, and that he is to arrange a small escort. We will travel by teleportation, so will not require horses or sleds. Tell him to meet us at the main entryway to the castle walls."

The servant bowed and departed. Ashura looked to the children. As he had expected, they had been too excited to waste time running to get their garments, and had apported what they needed directly from their quarters.

Fai was more laden than the other two children. Two pairs of boots stood on the floor by his feet, one set of adult size. Ashura recognized them as a pair he had worn on occasion. Fai held out an extra greatcoat and gloves, also Ashura's. "I got yours, too," Fai said shyly. "You looked busy."

"Thank you, Fai," Ashura said, taking the clothing from him. "That was very considerate of you."

They pulled on their outer garments quickly and exchanged shoes for boots, leaving an untidy pile of discarded footwear for the servants to pick up, then went to meet their escort. This group included not only Lord Matas, but also Lord Taishakuten. With them were thirty doughty guards. The children gasped in protest at the size of the entourage, which precluded any possibility of mischief. The Lord of the Southlands bowed gracefully, his long hair sweeping the ground.

"My Lord King," he said, straightening. "Your escort is prepared. Allow me to offer my services as part of your guard."

"My lord," Ashura greeted him, not hiding his puzzlement at Taishakuten's presence.

"I happened to overhear Matas relaying your orders, Majesty." Taishakuten bowed again. "I have heard of the wondrous display the Lord Wizard Fai has created for Luval Town, and thought you might indulge my whim to see it for myself. I am not so presumptuous as to come along as a mere spectator, but rather I would provide service to my king. I fancy myself an able enough swordsman to protect Your Majesty and your noble heirs."

Ashura barely kept himself from snorting at that speech, especially the last bit of false modesty. Taishakuten always had a way with flummery. For a warlord renowned for ruthlessness and cruelty, he was quite sophisticated in speech and manners, at least when he was trying to insinuate himself into Ashura's good graces.

"However," Taishakuten continued, "if you find my presence undesirable for any reason, I will withdraw."

Ashura had no intention of insulting a highly important and powerful nobleman over such a trivial matter. Doubtless Taishakuten knew that. Politics were the way of the world, from the Southlands to Luval to the far north.

"It is beneath your dignity to serve as mere bodyguard, my lord," Ashura said, "and I would not have asked it of you. You are welcome to join us. However, we do not need quite such a large troop for this outing." He addressed the horde of guards, "We only require ten. Choose among yourselves, and the rest return to your regular duties." He dismissed them with a wave of his hand.

The children grumbled again. Even ten guards were too many, as far as they were concerned. Taishaktuten and Matas looked alarmed at the reduction of their force, but both were wise enough to hold their tongues. Ashura ignored them all. Luval wasn't the Southlands. It didn't have the security issues caused by proximity to Arimaspea. There was little to fear in the insulated, well-protected north. Ashura considered the number adequate for safety and royal dignity, manageable for teleportation, and not too obtrusive for a quiet outing. "Fai, where is your display?"

"We put up decorations in a lot of places," Fai admitted. "But I can take everyone to see the biggest."

Taishakuten looked discomfited at that, Ashura noted. The warlord was probably remembering the chaos that had ensued when Fai had teleported the royal party to Castle Vasara not so long ago. Ashura's lips twitched. With a touch of mischief, he said, "Very well, Fai, you may take us. Remember to be careful with your power."

Fai brightened, and with an enthusiastic "Thank you, Your Majesty!" created the translocation runes and encircled the entire group with them. Ashura braced himself for his usual physical reaction when Fai used too much power.

Lights flashed and the transit commenced.

This time Fai's teleportation went well, without the nauseating gyrations and power surges of the trip to the Southlands. He used the correct amount of power and transported everyone quite gracefully. They materialized by the road leading into Luval Town, which glowed with colorful light.

"That translocation was very smooth, Lord Wizard," Taishakuten said to Fai. His compliment was belied by the way his complexion had paled, and he sucked in a few lungfuls of the cold air. Taishakuten despised magical means of transportation and communication. He probably didn't know the difference between a good translocation and a poor one, Ashura thought with amused contempt.

There had been no fault in Fai's casting. It had been perfect. Ashura ignored the warlord's discomfort, instead taking in the wonderland of light and ice.

The citizens of Seresu endured cold weather for much of the year, even in the Southlands. The people of Luval Town and Castle, nestled high in the Riphean Mountains, lived with ice and snow all year long. They were masters of adaptability, and found a variety of uses for their most common natural resources. Ice and snow preserved food and medicines, were melted and filtered for deliciously pure water, could be packed and made into emergency shelters. Ice and snow also could be used for fanciful purposes, for play and art.

Children and adults alike played in snow. Winter sports abounded, as did artistic contests. Luval Town held several ice and snow sculpture contests a year, including one during the winter festival. The royal party now stood amid the results of the latest competition.

The recent weather had been tamer than normal this year, and the contest had proceeded with enthusiasm. The results Ashura now beheld were breathtaking in their own right. Fantastical creations of snow and ice filled the frozen expanses alongside the road: creatures of myth, crystals, flowers and snowflakes, people in various poses, and fairytale castles. Piles of crystal balls. Elegant reindeer, snowcats, raptors and other wildlife, surrounded by a plethora of glittering ice trees. Dragons and griffons, and flying fish held aloft by pedestals cleverly fashioned as frozen spurts of water.

Some sculptures were immense, towering overhead, while others were tiny, nestled with exquisite delicacy among their larger siblings. There were even a few musical instruments, with pipes, strings, and dangling chimes. Whenever the air moved, they made joyful sounds to delight the ears.

Ashura even spied a copy of Luval Castle on its floating mountain, supported above the ground by jeweled clouds and surrounded by mountain birds on thin strands of ice. He wondered if the royal family was represented somewhere among the prolific display.

Many of the simpler statues were rough-hewn, childish. Snow was every child's favorite medium for art. But other sculptures were expertly created by the finest artisans. Every skill level was represented, professional and amateur alike. The townsfolk had been busy at play. It was a way to pass the extra free time afforded by winter, when no crops required tending, work in the mines became restricted, and commerce slowed down.

Even at midday, the sun was low and dim in the north, skimming the horizon. Just a couple hours after noon, dusk was deepening into true darkness. Yet even had the icy statuary not been magically lit, the artworks would have glimmered like polished gems in the last hour of faded daylight. But they were all lit, miraculously so.

Every sculpture in the exhibition glowed with internal light in rainbow hues. Green, blue, red, pink, purple, yellow, and every color in between. Some shimmered with soft, subtle radiance, others with bright shafts of light. Pastel watercolors painted the snowy ground, reflected from the gleaming ice.

Ashura heard Taishakuten draw in his breath. He had an arrested look in his eyes. It seemed even the kingdom's most brutal warlord could appreciate eldritch beauty. In fact, aside from the children, all the entourage looked enraptured.

Mielu and Virender, having seen it all before, ran among the ice and snow sculptures, pointing out their favorites and exhorting everyone to "Look, look!" Ashura gestured, and two guards followed them at a discreet distance. The guards of Luval Castle were used to overseeing uncooperative, headstrong royalty and wouldn't interfere with the children's movements unless they strayed too far.

"I lit this one!" Virender crowed, pointing to a fanciful tree full of ice fruits and birds. Its leaves were orange, the trunk blue. The birds and fruits glowed green and purple. "And that one over there!" He pointed to a cluster of crystals radiating pure white light.

"This one's mine!" Mielu pointed to a flock of butterflies spiraling up towards the sky. Shades of soft yellow, lavender, and rose-pink flickered in such a way as to make the butterflies' wings appear to flutter.

Ashura called to his niece and nephew, "They are very nice! Excellent work!"

While Virender and Mielu had lit a few of the sculptures, Fai's signature aura blanketed the area. It didn't feel smothering or painful, sensations Ashura sometimes experienced when Fai used large amounts of power. Instead, Ashura thought it provided a dreamlike ambience to the rest of the display, like soft snowflakes drifting lazily in a gentle breeze. What a shame that only magicians could experience the effect. It was every bit as artistic as the lights and the sculptures.

Fai had not run off with the other two children. Instead, he had stuck by Ashura's side. Ashura said to him, "Most of this is your work, isn't it?"

Fai looked up. "Do you like it?" he asked shyly.

"Fai, it is breathtaking. Simply stunning."

Though he didn't smile, pure joy beamed from Fai's sky blue eyes. "I'm glad."

Ashura smiled at him, so proud of his son's skill and also his generosity, to share so much with the local townsfolk. There was art in this magic, along with power, and joy had fueled its creation. Fai might never smile, but he expressed his happiness and sense of fun in other ways. This particular method was spectacular.

Ashura rested his hand on Fai's shoulder. "There is more at work here than magelights and rainbow illusions, I see. When we are alone, you must tell me how you crafted so much, both here and in the castle. I would like to know the spells that create such beauty."

"I promise," Fai agreed. "The townsfolk really liked it, too."

"I have no doubt that all who see it fall in love with it. We shall organize tours from the castle, so everyone who wants can come to view it."

Fai swelled with such pride and pleasure that Ashura wondered if the child might burst. "Even the servants?" Fai asked.

"Of course. I said everyone, and I meant it."

"Good. I want Mistress Bera and the rest of the kitchen staff to see it. I told them about it, too."

Ashura laughed and ruffled Fai's hair. "I should have known. Food is never far from your thoughts, is it?" Mistress Bera was Fai's favorite tutor in the culinary arts. She specialized in making fabulous pastries and other sweets. "If you like, I shall escort Mistress Bera and the others here myself." It seemed like a magnanimous gesture, but Ashura immediately thought better of the idea. He knew the kitchen staff was intimidated by his presence. While they had grown more accustomed to him showing up in their domain due to Fai's lessons in the kitchens, they remained somewhat ill at ease when he lingered too long. But they all loved Fai and had long ago lost their discomfort with having the young prince around. "Or you may bring them," Ashura amended, "as long as you also bring a suitable escort."

"Oh, I will!" Fai said with excitement. "Thank you, thank you!"

Ashura was about to make some indulgent reply, but at that moment Taishakuten spoke up, "Majesty." His hand moved to his sword hilt, though he did not draw the weapon.

Ashura gave him a questioning look, but immediately recognized the reason Taishakuten had interrupted him. When they had first arrived, there had been little traffic on the road, and just a few people wandering among the ice sculptures. Since the royal party was small and not conspicuous, and the townsfolk well accustomed to magic, little notice had been taken of the new arrivals. For a time, the king's party had been left in peace to admire the art.

That had changed. Someone must have recognized Ashura and run into the town with news of the royal visit. A rather formal procession now approached on foot, led by the new town mayor. He had been chosen recently, and Ashura hadn't interacted much with him yet. What was his name? Ashura racked his brains. Ah, yes, Mayor Kuzma, that was it.

Ashura sighed. "Fetch the children," he ordered. "We must meet with our subjects." At least he'd had a little time to appreciate Fai's handiwork.

The guards collected Virender and Mielu then moved into a ceremonial and protective formation. Taishakuten and Matas flanked the king. Weapons remained sheathed, and they projected a dignified show of royal consequence. No one feared an attack from Luval Town. The castle and the town always maintained a cordial relationship, as they were interdependent upon one another. Ashura made certain that his own people didn't cause trouble in the town. Any that did were suitably punished.

As demonstration of their peaceful and respectful intentions, the officials had come on foot, rather than on horseback, which might be taken the wrong way. They were trailed by a loose collection of town watch and gawking commoners. The watchmen kept the gaggle of townsfolk well away from the royal personages. The approaching officials were arrayed in finery suitable for meeting the king, and were unarmed.

The procession stopped a short distance away and knelt down in the snow. "Your Majesty," the mayor said reverently, placing a hand over his breast. "We welcome you, and are deeply honored by your visit to our humble exhibition."

"Please rise," Ashura said. "We are gratified and warmed by your greeting, Mayor Kuzma. I congratulate you on your recent election." His words were calculated to please. The new mayor would be quite flattered that the king knew his name and status. Ashura liked to keep his interaction with the town and its officials as amicable as possible. His nobles' stormy nature made good relations with the commons essential.

Mayor Kuzma smiled warmly as he stood. He bowed, very deeply. "My thanks, Gracious Majesty. I am humbled by your condescension, and will faithfully obey Your Majesty's lightest wish." He waited politely for Ashura to direct the conversation, as was proper.

Well accustomed to benign pleasantries when making visits both official and personal, Ashura said, "We were admiring the town's work on this winter's ice show and competition. The display is incomparable."

"We are so pleased that Your Majesty appreciates our town's celebrations. As you know, we enjoy our ice competitions. Lord Fai, Lady Mielu, and Lord Virender's additions were particularly appreciated. The lights are wonderful, especially in full dark. The entire town comes out to see them. The royal children are a great source of pride to our country."

Ashura smiled down upon the children. "Yes, I am quite proud of all of them." A thought occurred to him, one he disliked. "Was the judging completed and the winners announced before the children embellished the statuary with their lights?" he asked, hoping the answer would be affirmative. He hated to think that Fai, Virender, and Mielu had interfered in the competition.

He heard three small gasps of dismay. Obviously, the children hadn't thought to ask permission before setting up their lights. Ashura wondered if he was going to be mending relations with offended townsfolk who might suspect that the judging had been influenced by royal favoritism. Or that perhaps the winners had simply gotten the best magical lights, rather than created the best sculptures.

The mayor hastened to assure him that that was not the case, that the winners had been decided earlier in the week, well before the children had lit the displays. Ashura wasn't certain that was true, but as long as no offense was taken, no harm was done. And certainly the townsfolk enjoyed the lights. Even during this semi-official encounter, adults and children alike were distracted from their king's presence, instead admiring the lights and pointing out favorites to each other.

"Have someone provide my lord Taishakuten with a list of all participants in the contest," Ashura said, gesturing to the warlord. "As a mark of our favor and the joy of the midwinter festival, all will receive a special award for their entries. Include also those who did not compete, but provided a sculpture for its own sake."

It was the least he could do, in light of his concern that Fai, Mielu, and Virender might have unintentionally tampered with the competition, perhaps even affecting its outcome. He knew he'd done well by the small cheer that arose at his words from the folk behind the officials.

"Oh, thank you, Your Majesty." Mayor Kuzma bowed again. "All of Luval, indeed, all of Seresu esteems you for your generosity and honor."

Ashura inclined his head graciously. "Now, please show me and my entourage the winning entries. I would also like to congratulate their creators, if they are present."

A sigh of surprised pleasure went up from the crowd. The mayor enthusiastically discussed the contest, and just as enthusiastically praised the magical lights that enhanced the ice sculptures. The townsfolk remained genial. It seemed that whatever damage Fai, Virender, and Mielu might have wrought was completely forgiven. Indeed, it was entirely possible that there had never been any problem but in Ashura's own imagination.

With relief, he engaged in polite small talk with the mayor and enjoyed the beauty of the gleaming ice, the colorful, glowing lights, and the familiar aura of Fai's magic that cloaked the area.


	25. Chapter 25

"Ashuraaaaa!"

The angry screech assaulted Ashura's ears, and in cowardly fashion he contemplated hiding. His sister by marriage, Sybilla, was on a rampage, and he was her target. He wondered what he could have done to provoke her rage.

The midwinter festival was in full swing, Luval Castle almost bursting with visiting nobles and wizards, and his younger brother's widow was shrieking at him in the halls.

Accepting the inevitable, he stepped into her path. "Sybilla," he said, "please keep your voice down. You sound like a fishwife. It's unseemly."

"You!" Sybilla stalked up to him.

As always, he was struck by her stunning beauty. Her emerald green eyes flashed, and her chestnut hair was arranged in an intricate coiffure held by jeweled hairpins. She was exquisitely gowned in green silk and velvet with golden lace and embroidery. Her topaz and gold jewelry glowed against her warm skin. Had she not been his late brother's widow and the mother of his heirs...

Ashura put that thought aside. It wasn't hard to do. At the moment, her gorgeous features were distorted with outrage—aimed directly at him.

"You!" she spat again, but more quietly. "You and that child of yours! You overindulge him. It's all your fault."

Ashura hadn't the slightest idea what she was talking about. He said as much.

That proved to be a miscalculation. Sybilla looked flabbergasted.

"You mean you don't know what your spoiled son gets up to?" she said, appalled. "Or the trouble he's been leading my poor Mielu and Virender into?"

"You're talking about Fai?" Ashura was bewildered. Fai was a polite, well-behaved child, especially compared to Sybilla's little hellions. Virender and Mielu were clever and charming and adorable. They were well bred and well educated, and knew how to behave properly when in public, but they were also born makers of mischief. "Fai?" he repeated.

"Yes! Fai!"

With a flash of horror, Ashura remembered that Fai had taken Virender and Mielu on an unauthorized excursion to Luval Town to create magical lights. Had Sybilla found out about that? No one but him and the children knew the full details about that trip, but the end results were well known in Luval Castle. Many had gone to view the ice display. In fact, so many had gone that the town's merchants had set up booths along the road to take advantage of all the visitors, and an impromptu market had sprung up. There were stalls to accommodate rich and poor alike, as well as a variety of food and drink stands. Even the meanest servant could find plenty to buy while taking in the spectacular ice and light show.

But that little venture on the children's part had occurred over a week ago. Why would Sybilla have waited this long to shriek about it? Until now, he had assumed Sybilla hadn't realized that her own children had accompanied Fai. Fai's magical signature dominated the entire display, so it was an understandable misapprehension. Ashura doubted Virender or Mielu would have admitted their complicity to their mother, and equally, he doubted that Sybilla, highbred and proud as she was, would have deigned to speak with the lowly townsfolk to discover the truth.

"Perhaps if you explained what it is you believe that Fai has done?" Ashura asked carefully.

"The whole castle knows what he's done!" she replied. "How can you be ignorant that your child spends time in the kitchens with lowborn cooks? He takes lessons from them!"

Sybilla was in a dudgeon about Fai's cooking lessons? Ashura wasn't sure he'd heard her right. He couldn't have.

Granted, cooking was not exactly an appropriate activity for a prince, but there really wasn't any harm in it. He said, "I fail to see the problem. Fai wanted to learn to cook, and I gave him permission. It was a long time ago, and it hardly merits—"

"You gave him permission! Did you also give Virender and Mielu permission? Without consulting me?"

"What?"

"Cooking is beneath them! It's—it's common. Bad enough Mielu is doing it, but so is Virender! He should be working with his arms and magic tutors, not learning how to make nut cakes and strawberry tartlets!"

"What?" Ashura repeated, dumbly. And then, "Strawberry tartlets?" There was some unpleasant association with that tasty dessert. Before he could identify it, Sybilla's shrill complaints derailed his train of thought.

"And Mielu should only learn enough about it to manage a noble household, not how to separate the eggs and skim the milk herself. You should hear them both brag about these—these ignoble skills. They're actually proud. Well, you'd better arrange good marriages for both of them, because I don't know what will become of them if they acquire reputations for such eccentricity. Maybe if their uncle the king takes their futures in hand—"

"Wait," Ashura interrupted her tirade, holding up both hands. "You're upset because they've joined Fai in his cooking lessons? Is that what you're talking about?"

"Of course that's what I'm talking about. Is Your Majesty going deaf?" she asked sourly.

At the moment, Ashura rather wished he were deaf. "Oh," was his inadequate response.

Sybilla stared hard at him, but at least she wasn't screeching anymore.

"I see," Ashura said.

"They are in the kitchens at this very moment," Sybilla told him. "Do you know how they justify this ridiculous behavior? They told me that Fai invited them, and since he is a prince, a D-titled wizard, _and_ your Royal Wizard, of course cooking _must_ be a respectable activity for princes and princesses." She planted her hands on her hips and wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Oh," Ashura said again.

She huffed at him, her look plainly saying, _What are you going to do about this?_

"My lady, they may be your children, but they are also royal charges," Ashura said. "As such, I make all final dispositions in regards to their futures. Rest assured, I will arrange suitable marriages for them. As to the cooking, well..." Well, what? Ashura's thoughts scurried for a way to placate Sybilla.

"I agree it's an eccentricity," he conceded, "but it's a charming and harmless one. We should allow the children this indulgence while they are young. No one will think anything worse of it, and the children will tire of it when it loses its novelty and becomes real work. They will all grow up too soon, and take up their adult responsibilities. Let them have the joy of childhood while it lasts."

That, he knew, was itself an eccentric opinion, as royal children were considered the property of their parents, their family houses, and their countries. They were usually treated as chattel to be bartered for political and financial gain. Nonetheless, Sybilla appeared to respond to its sentimentality.

"Well, I suppose," she muttered.

"Come, Sister, let us not speak of childish whims and follies," Ashura cajoled, holding out his arm to her.

She cast him a suspicious look, but formally placed her fingers upon his wrist. "What would you speak of, instead, Brother?" she inquired.

"As you brought up the subject of marriage, I thought we might discuss the plans for Tancred's coming nuptials."

It was the only important decision he had made about her children lately without consulting her, but he knew it didn't bother her in the slightest. Unlike cooking, the marriage of her eldest son to a princess of Lintukoto would bring her great prestige. In fact, when informed of the betrothal, she had been delighted. Tancred had been quiet, though, abnormally so. Ashura believed that he, like Kendappa, needed some time to become accustomed to the idea.

At mention of her eldest's coming marriage, Sybilla lit up. "Oh, I have such wonderful ideas for a formal court ceremony," she gushed, completely abandoning her previous pique with Ashura. "Tancred is your heir, so of course the celebrations should be the most spectacular seen in this country since..." She hesitated, and Ashura knew she was trying to avoid mention of his own late wife. Naturally, Tancred's marriage should be as splendid as Ashura's had been, but like most of Ashura's acquaintances, Sybilla forbore discussion of Luonnotar out of long habit. Sybilla recovered quickly, though, and said, "Well, Tancred's nuptials should be the most important since my own marriage to Tendulkar."

It wasn't a significantly better comparison, as, like Ashura's queen, Ashura's brother Tendulkar had also died too young. But since Fai had come into Ashura's life, he was no longer sensitive about Tendulkar's death in battle, nor of Luonnotar's and his infant children's in childbed. And Sybilla's absurd conceit and self-importance both amused and irritated him. "Oh, I quite agree that the marriage of the heir to Seresu's throne should be at least as lavish as your own," he said, but the irony was lost on her.

She chattered gaily about this and that plan, completely absorbed in such a delightful topic of conversation.   Ashura rapidly understood that she would be just as free with his money as Kendappa.

"Perhaps you should coordinate with my cousin," he suggested with spurious innocence. Oil and water mixed better than Kendappa and Sybilla. "She has a great deal of experience when it comes to planning court festivities. You must admit, this year's midwinter festival is superb."

He watched with amusement as she digested that unpalatable statement. Much as she might wish to, she couldn't deny the celebrations at Luval were spectacular, nor that Kendappa had coordinated them all. However, she would not agree to share with Kendappa the responsibility or the prestige of planning of Tancred's wedding.

She forced a pleasant smile onto her face, and said, "I believe your lovely cousin will be busy preparing for her own wedding."

"Yes," Ashura said blandly, "you are correct. How foolish of me. She will soon be the Queen of Thule, after all. A future queen has many preparations to occupy her, and no doubt she will no longer be able to devote much time to our poor needs."

"Indeed," Sybilla murmured.

Soon Kendappa would outrank her, and that must gall someone as proud as Sybilla. As Ashura had succeeded in his aim of distracting Sybilla from her ire at Fai, he ceased to needle her. He laid his hand upon hers, and said, "So it seems you must coordinate Tancred's wedding without Lady Kendappa's help. I am certain you will create a marvelous celebration. Remember that you may apply to me for any assistance you require. I put myself and my noble servants at your disposal."

Mollified, she treated him to one of her brilliant smiles. "I thank you, Brother. Rest assured I shall not disappoint your expectations."

Again, he marveled at her extraordinary beauty. He gave her hand a pat, and led her towards the Great Hall where the main festivities were held. "So," he said, "tell me more of your plans for Tancred's wedding."

 


	26. Chapter 26

The next time Ashura heard his name bellowed in rage, it was in the early evening, after a fencing demonstration given by Lord Taishakuten and Lord Matas in the Great Hall.

The central area of the room had been cleared to provide space for the swordsmen, and also for the music and dancing that would come after. Sideboards containing refreshments lined the walls, though they were hidden by the throngs of courtiers, court wizards, and servants who stood watching avidly. Ashura sat at the head of the Great Hall on the dais, with Kendappa on his left and Sybilla on his right. Fai, Mielu, and Virender sat off to one side, enraptured by the warriors' skill. Tancred, however, had not deigned to put in an appearance.

His attendance was not mandatory for such entertainments. Many in the court came and went freely as their whims took them. However, his absence was a trifle unusual, considering that Tancred usually enjoyed demonstrations of martial prowess. He trained rigorously, and could often be found observing the practice sessions of the most skilled warriors.

The duel was good-natured and in reality just a glorified sparring match with short swords. The opponents showed off their skill and agility, focusing on tricky, flashy moves with their swords and elegant cloaks, which they used to dramatic, if impractical, effect. It was not intended as the kind of swordplay needed for life-or-death battle, but rather an entertaining performance. It also didn't continue very long. Matas executed some showy gymnastics, which Taishakuten didn't seriously counter. Then Matas swung his sword at Taishakuten's neck. Taishakuten danced aside and leapt into the air. He spun as he landed and deftly disarmed his opponent in a move that the two of them had obviously choreographed. Matas's sword clattered to the floor. With a flourish, he formally conceded defeat before retrieving his weapon. Grinning, both lords sheathed their swords then turned to face the dais.

The hall erupted with applause and cheers. Even Vainamoinen and Ilmarinen shouted with honest approval. Everyone enjoyed a good swordfight, especially one with combatants so skilled and also so cheerful. During his stay at court, Taishakuten had gone to some trouble to improve his reputation, and by the response it seemed he had been successful.

Ashura rose to his feet, clapping. "An excellent match! I congratulate you both on your skill."

The two swordsmen bowed. "Thank you, Your Majesty," Taishakuten said. "Lord Matas and I train together often."

"With marvelous results," said Ashura. He gestured to the sideboards. "Please, take some refreshment, gentlemen. After such an energetic display, you must both thirst."

Taishakuten and Matas bowed at the cordial dismissal, and moved to the side. The captain of the guard met them to collect their weapons. Their mock battle over, they were no longer allowed to bear arms in the court. They chatted amiably, heading straight for a table holding goblets and many wine pitchers. Lady Darja, Matas's wife and Ashura's current mistress, joined them. She beamed with pride.

Ashura seated himself. A shame Tancred hadn't been present. Not only was Taishakuten a most excellent swordsman, but to judge by the sparring demonstration, he was also something of a showman. Ashura saw Fai talking with his cousins. The children's hands were moving as they imitated some movement from the show. Smiling, Ashura turned to Sybilla, asking, "Where is Tancred, my lady? I am surprised he missed this."

His sister-by-marriage shrugged delicately. "I have not seen that boy since dinner. He said he needed some time to himself. He does that often these days. I assume he is skulking about somewhere in the castle in one of his moods."

Leaning forward, Kendappa put in, "Youngsters his age often prefer the company of their friends over their family."

Sybilla sniffed. "It is quite annoying. He insists that I don't understand him or what he's going through."

"What is he going through that is so terrible?"

"He's a teenager. Therefore, as far as he's concerned, everything is terrible."

Ashura grinned. How true. At least Tancred didn't destroy furniture when his mood fouled, as Kendappa had recently done. He was wise enough not to mention that aloud.

"His life, so he says, is an unendurable burden of drudgery and misery. Except, of course, when he's happy," Sybilla added with annoyance. "Then he just gets willful and won't tell me why he's happy. Apparently, I can't understand anything about anything." She sniffed again.

"It is normal behavior for boys his age and in his situation," Ashura soothed her. "No doubt he is coming to terms with his betrothal. He is likely working through that in his mind, and it is the source of much of his recent moodiness."

"At first, he was delighted about his betrothal to King Ukko's daughter," Sybilla claimed. "He was given a portrait of her. She is very lovely. He was pleased and quite amiable."

"Perhaps," Ashura said. "I am sure he was expecting to be betrothed sooner or later. But no matter how beautiful the bride, such large life changes as marriage take some getting used to." He recalled his own reactions to his betrothal to Luonnotar, his late wife. That had certainly been an interesting time. Until he had actually met her and reconciled to the marriage, he had driven everyone around him insane.

To his left, Kendappa uttered a most unladylike snort. He repressed a grin. Teenagers weren't alone when it came to moodiness at life changes.

He signaled to the musicians that they should form up and start playing. The courtiers began choosing dance partners among themselves.

"Ashuraaaaa!" a disembodied male voice bellowed into the Great Hall, reverberating in every corner and echoing from the ceiling. Ashura winced, recognizing the speaker. There was no mistake. He wondered if Sybilla's mere mention of that regal personage had somehow summoned him. Ashura had no idea why else he was hearing that particular voice now, and in such furious tones.

A dark, cloudy mass boiled up from the center of the floor. The wizards shouted for everyone to back away, to keep the space clear. The courtiers were no fools. They'd seen all manner of translocations, and recognized the signs of one done in anger. They pulled back, but watched as avidly as they had the sword demonstration.

The mass transformed into a crackling vortex of lightning that exploded into a dazzling flash of green and purple light.

The courtiers gasped and shielded their eyes. Ashura sighed. The new arrival had always been a show-off.

The light faded. Flanked by six royal guards and two staff-bearing wizards, His Radiant Majesty Ukko Ylijumala, King of Lintukoto and Ashura's former brother-by-marriage, stood in the middle of Ashura's court.

Ukko radiated belligerence with the force of a thunderhead. He was as blond and blue-eyed as his late sister, tall and powerfully built, with a neatly trimmed, short beard. His large, ring-bedecked hand gripped a youthful princeling's collar, as though by the scruff of the neck.

"Tancred!" Sybilla shrieked. Kendappa shushed her, and Sybilla, recognizing the very important personage with her son, subsided with a look of horror.

Ashura sighed again, and rose to greet his brother king.

"Ashura!" Ukko bellowed once more. "What is the meaning of this outrage?" He shook his captive, making Tancred's long, black ponytail swing wildly.

"King Ukko," Ashura greeted cautiously, and tried to think of a politic way to get Ukko to release Tancred. What had Tancred done to create this furor?

Ukko shook Tancred again, making the boy cough. "I found this fool sneaking around my daughter's chambers! I can't believe you countenance such dishonorable behavior!"

"It wasn't like that!" Tancred protested. "I told you, I only wanted to meet her—"

"Be silent!" Ukko roared. "You are fortunate my esteem for your uncle prevents me from dealing with you as you deserve!"

"But I didn't do anything different!" Tancred whined incomprehensibly. He said to Ashura, "Uncle—"

"Be silent, I say!" Ukko gave him another shake for emphasis.

Vainamoinen whispered to some nearby servants, who immediately ran out. Seresian guards appeared and sidled along the walls, hands on sword pommels. In rare accord with one another, Taishakuten and Ilmarinen exchanged grim looks. They nodded to their own retainers. The court wizards gathered with Suhail, deceptively casual.

Ashura noted all this. His own people were prepared to start a war with Lintukoto, because to attack King Ukko Ylijumala in open court would result in just that disaster. And all over something stupid that a teenager had done on a whim, from the sound of Ukko's rants. It was ridiculous, and very dangerous.

He stepped forward, holding out a conciliatory hand. "My brother, please calm yourself. Let us take this...discussion...to more private surroundings, and I promise we shall resolve this matter amicably." Whatever it was.

A low rumble emanated from Ukko's deep chest. He, too, had realized that he was upsetting Ashura's retainers. He blew out a snort like an enraged bull, venting frustration. "Very well," he growled, visibly getting his temper under control. "I will speak alone with you about this stripling." He finally released Tancred, who skittered away from him.

Ashura reached out and snagged Tancred's wrist, yanking the young man to his side with an iron grip that spoke volumes of his displeasure. To Ukko, he said pleasantly, "We shall adjourn to my council chambers. Your people may remain here and partake of my court's hospitality." His eyes raked his courtiers, plainly warning them that they had better be polite to their guests, or else. In response to the unvoiced orders, a number of bows and curtseys rippled among the gentlefolk. The guards and noblemen relaxed, and the atmosphere of threat faded. Still gripping Tancred's wrist, Ashura escorted his brother king and his nephew out of the Great Hall. Several of Ukko's guards followed, along with Ashura's.

By the time they reached the council chambers, Ukko's temper had calmed considerably. Both kings told their guards to wait outside. Ashura closed the door for privacy, and made a show of inviting Ukko to be seated at the council table. He took a seat beside Ukko, and planted Tancred unceremoniously in the chair on his other side.

"Now," he began, "it seems that my nephew—"

"Your nephew," Ukko interrupted, "is a feckless idiot." He glowered at Tancred, who shrank as far away as he could while still remaining in his seat.

"Perhaps," Ashura said, "but I still don't know exactly what he has done to upset you."

"Have you grown deaf over the years?" Ukko inquired, most ungraciously. "I told you that I found him skulking near my daughter's chambers."

Ashura was getting tired of being accused of deafness. "But he wasn't actually in her chambers?" he asked, to clarify the offense.

"Only because he never got that far!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Ashura saw Tancred fidget. He wondered just how far his nephew had gotten. Had Ukko caught him exiting the princess's chambers, rather than attempting to enter?

Ashura said nothing of those thoughts.

Instead, he spoke to his nephew with deceptively mild censure, "Tancred, what were you doing in Lintukoto? I do not recall granting you permission to leave the country."

Eyes downcast, Tancred mumbled, "I just wanted to meet the girl I'm going to marry, that's all." He looked up into Ashura's face. "I promise, Uncle, that's all! Nothing else happened! I swear!"

Ah, that confirmed Ashura's suspicions. It seemed Tancred had met the young lady. How fortunate that her father didn't know. That worthy would no doubt foam at the mouth over an unchaperoned meeting.

Ukko growled, "They have no business meeting until after the betrothal is finalized and the contract is signed. Especially unchaperoned, like he intended! It would be completely inappropriate." He did not appear to have noticed the way Tancred had phrased his response, and still seemed ignorant of the fact that Tancred and the young lady had, indeed, already met.

Though Ashura had met his own wife in a similarly unorthodox fashion, for politics' sake he chose not to disagree. But he couldn't resist muttering, "You're just like your father. He didn't have a sense of humor, either."

"What does that mean?" Ukko said, bristling.

"Nothing important." Ashura had no intention of clarifying his discourteous comment, honest though it had been. It had become clear to him that honesty had little place in this discussion. "In this case, I merely think we should treat this incident as a youthful indiscretion. Tancred has stated that he meant no harm, and only sought to circumvent a rigid social convention."

"You believe him?"

"I do. He is my nephew, my heir, and a consummate wizard, as well. But he is still young, and the young are often reckless and thoughtless. All young magicians can be unruly, heedless, and mischievous, as you well know, but they usually aren't malicious."

"You make his misbehavior sound like nothing more than a youthful lark," Ukko complained. "It is more serious than that."

Ashura did think it no more than a youthful lark, and thought Ukko was blowing the incident well out of proportion. "Is it serious enough to you to break the betrothal?" he asked bluntly.

Ukko looked shocked. "Of course not!"

No, Ashura mused, that would be unthinkable to Ukko. Like many others, he suspected that Ashura would never remarry. He believed that Tancred would be the next King of Seresu, and he wanted his daughter to become the next queen.

But in reality, she would never become queen. By this marriage, Ashura and Ukko were condemning the princess to an early death. Ashura would one day murder her, his nephew, and any children they might produce. Were Ukko to learn the true circumstances and future of Seresu, he would certainly break the betrothal, and probably declare war, besides.

"I am pleased you still desire the marriage," Ashura said, even while his spirit cried. He spoke his next lie with outward sincerity, "I desire it, too, with all my heart."

Defeated, Ukko huffed. "Then it seems I must consider this matter settled."

"Rest assured, I will have words with Tancred," Ashura consoled him. "This poor behavior will not be repeated."

Beside him, Tancred squirmed.

Ashura continued, "I would like to make amends to you for this unpleasantness."

Ukko asked, "Indeed?"

"We are in the midst of Seresu's midwinter festival. Luval Castle provides many entertainments and most excellent hospitality at this time. In fact, in two days' time, my court will view a professional company of actors perform a comedy by the great playwright Lumi Pahalaitar. I believe Lumi hailed from your own country?"

"Yes, indeed, she did, and a great pride her works are to us," Ukko said, looking pleased. "It was a sad day for us all when she finally crossed the dark river to sleep in Tuonela," he added, using the Lintukotoan terms for death and the Land of the Dead.

"Then I invite you, your queen, and a few of your closest retainers to join us for those revelries," Ashura said. "I would also ask that you bring your lovely daughter, my nephew's betrothed."

Ukko's countenance darkened. "Ashura..." he rumbled.

"Do you not think it would be a good thing for the two young ones to meet under such well-chaperoned conditions? As magicians, you travel easily and would only need stay for the feast, the performance, and perhaps the dancing afterwards." In fact, Ashura hoped Ukko would stay no longer than one afternoon and evening. He did not want to put Ukko up overnight. Entertaining foreign royalty was expensive and exhausting, and normally required months of planning and coordination. Luval was not prepared at this time for such extravagance. "Truly, the conventions of our fathers' and grandfathers' times should be reexamined. Surely we, as modern men, are not constrained by such tiresome and antiquated customs. I am certain your daughter is just as interested in meeting her betrothed as my nephew."

Ukko stared at him, deciphering the implied insult in that complex series of statements. Instead of bridling, he laughed. "I should slay you for calling me a rigid old coot, Ashura! Very well, we shall attend. But just for one afternoon and evening," he said. "My court is holding its own celebrations, and it would not do to be away too long."

That suited Ashura perfectly. "Then all is settled." He rose, and even offered a hand to assist Ukko to his feet. Ukko laughed again at the notion that he needed help getting out of a chair.

"I thank you for your gracious invitation," Ukko said heartily.

 


	27. Chapter 27

Ashura, Ukko, and Tancred returned to the court, so all could see that their dispute had been resolved and they were in perfect amity. Ashura noted that his own courtiers and Ukko's retinue all looked visibly relieved.

After a bit of public court ceremony, amounting to no more than a few toasts to each king's health and to Tancred's future bride, King Ukko and his party took their leave. This time there was no eldritch thunder or vortices full of lightning. In a congenial mood, Ukko departed in a much less dramatic fashion than he had arrived.

As soon as Ukko was gone, Ashura dragged Tancred out of the Great Hall and to a small private chamber. He slammed the door behind them. "What were you thinking?" he demanded, whirling on his nephew. "Ukko was right. You are a feckless idiot!"

"Uncle—" Tancred began, but Ashura cut him off.

"I know you didn't mean any harm, but do you have any idea of the potential consequences of your foolhardiness? Did you think it through at all? You could have triggered a war with Lintukoto!"

"So could you!" Tancred said hotly.

Ashura gaped at him for that apparent _non sequitur_. "What are you talking about? I wasn't the one who sneaked off to visit a Lintukotoan princess. In fact, I recall that I just saved your hide and your betrothal, and maintained good relations with Ukko despite your stupid, inexcusable behavior."

Tancred mumbled mutinously under his breath.

"What did you say, you foolish, irresponsible child?" Ashura hissed.

Tancred glared at him. "I said, I didn't do anything you didn't do. Your Majesty," he added, biting down on each word.

"I," Ashura said haughtily, "have done nothing to irritate Ukko except betroth you to his eldest daughter."

"You did the same thing I did when you got betrothed," Tancred accused him. "Fai said..." Suddenly looking guilty, he stopped.

"Fai?" Ashura queried. "What has Fai to do with your shocking misbehavior? Do not seek to blame him for your own stupidity."

Tancred pressed his lips together. "I'm not putting any blame on him. He's just a little boy. But he said... He told me a story about you..." He threw his hands in the air. "Oh, how can I explain this?"

Ashura felt as though he had been doused with a bucket of ice water. He knew exactly what Tancred was trying to tell him.

Fai.

Ashura had once related to Fai the story about how he had met his late queen. As Tancred has accused, Ashura had teleported to Lintukoto to meet his betrothed. He had surprised Luonnotar in her garden. In response, she, quite naturally, had magically blasted him into a thorny gooseberry bush. He had told Fai the amusing tale to while away some time during long hours of mundane travel.

The memory of his past indiscretion shot through him and shattered his self-righteousness to tiny pieces. He sat down heavily. "Fai told you a story about me?" he asked with resignation.

It was not a well-known story. In fact, until Ashura had told Fai, it had been known only to himself, Kendappa, his late brother, and his late wife. Fai had been quite discreet, unusually so for such a young child, but then, Fai wasn't really young, was he? Fai might well be the oldest person in the world, having been trapped in a timeless prison for uncounted years before he had come into Ashura's care. Fai sometimes behaved with disturbing maturity, and at other times seemed quite young and vulnerable. Ashura had assumed Fai's mature side had overridden his inexperience when it came to that tale.

Not that it had mattered much to him before. Ashura hadn't particularly cared if anyone else knew the story, so he hadn't worried about Fai's knowledge spreading. Luonnotar was long dead, and his indiscretion would be regarded as mere youthful folly. But now, with Tancred betrothed to Ukko's daughter...

Ukko had no sense of humor, especially when it came to his family's honor. The "youthful lark" tactic Ashura had tried on him to excuse Tancred's misadventure would not have succeeded had Ukko not desired the marriage so much. Ashura was sure that Ukko would not be particularly pleased to discover Ashura had pulled the same stunt with his sister, despite the many years that had passed.

Well, what was done was done. There was no sense worrying about it. Ukko wanted the marriage between his daughter and Tancred very much, so even if he did hear the tale of Ashura's first meeting with Luonnotar, he would do no more than complain and cast insults. Probably vociferously, but there should be no other harm.

"He only told me, and no one else," Tancred hastened to reassure his uncle. "We were in private. Not even Mielu or Virender know. Honest, Uncle, Fai doesn't bruit it about, and neither do I. Don't blame him. It was my own fault."

"And what, exactly, did Fai tell you?" Ashura kept his tone neutral.

Tancred winced. "I really didn't mean to get him in trouble."

Ashura waited.

"You see, Uncle, I was complaining to Virender about how I'd never even met my betrothed, and Fai was nearby..."

"Your mother said you welcomed the marriage."

"I do," Tancred said with the impossible earnestness of youth. "I really do. It means, well, marrying a princess from Lintukoto, just like your queen..."

Tancred, Ashura noted, did not tiptoe around mention of Luonnotar as Sybilla and the other older courtiers did. Perhaps it was a sign of their different generations. Tancred had been so very young when Luonnotar died, and had not interacted with Ashura during that grief-filled time. Or, perhaps, it was also due to Fai. Ashura had relaxed a great deal about the subject since Fai had come into his life.

"You took it as a confirmation that you truly are my heir, and I will not seek to displace you with another," Ashura said gently. They both knew the old rumors that Ashura might install Fai as heir to the throne. Ashura suspected that some still believed that old gossip.

Tancred flushed. "Yes," he admitted.

"You were correct, Tancred. You remain my heir. I have no plans to displace you. Now, go on," Ashura encouraged him.

"Anyway," Tancred said, scuffing his toe on the stone floor, "Fai said he had a secret to tell me that would make me feel better. He's always nice like that, you know? Whenever someone is feeling bad, he tries to make them feel better. So we went to his rooms, and got all the servants to leave, and he told me that you had the same doubts and concerns when you were first betrothed. And then he told me the story about how you met Queen Luonnotar. He said it was really romantic."

"Romantic?" Ashura said with raised brows. He suspected Tancred had not been told the full story.

"Well, he said she blasted you, but that you both made up. And then that you kept your meeting secret for a long time after you were married." Tancred paused with a considering look on his face. "It really does sound romantic. Like something out of a storybook."

"Did he mention a gooseberry bush?" Despite himself, Ashura was dying of curiosity about that. The absurdity of the entire situation bore down on him, and he had a hard time taking it seriously.

"What gooseberry bush?" Tancred asked, bewildered. "What does a gooseberry bush have to do with anything?"

"Oh, nothing, I suppose." It seemed Fai had felt the need to protect his foster father's dignity, and not related the funniest part of the tale. Quite the little diplomat, he was. How diverting. Ashura's sense of humor was entirely restored. He smiled. "I trust you've learned your lesson?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Tancred said formally. "I won't go uninvited to Lintukoto again."

"That's part of it, but not precisely all..." Ashura stopped, realizing the lesson that Tancred should have learned was that he shouldn't listen to silly ideas from a nine-year-old.

A nine-year-old.

Fai.

This was at least the third time Ashura had heard Fai's name in connection with rather public mischief in recent days. The magical lights in the town, Virender and Mielu's illicit cooking lessons in defiance of their mother's wishes, and now Tancred's escapade in Lintukoto. Ashura searched his recent memories, seeking the circumstances surrounding the children's adventures.

Fai had created the lights in the castle, and then taken Virender and Mielu into the town—without permission or an escort—in order to make more.

Fai had invited Virender and Mielu into Luval's kitchens to learn skills their mother had forbidden.

Fai had told Tancred the story of how Ashura had first met Luonnotar.

Fai?

All this time, Ashura had been blaming Sybilla's children for the mischief wrought at court during the festival, but perhaps...

No.

No, it wasn't possible. It couldn't be. Could it?

Was Fai the _ringleader?_

For a moment, shock held Ashura dumb. Then he burst out laughing.

"Uncle?" Tancred asked hesitantly. He looked utterly bewildered.

Ashura whooped so hard tears came to his eyes.

Tancred's confusion turned to distress, and Ashura realized he was alarming his nephew. With reluctance, he got his merriment under control. He wiped his face, stifling a few chortles. "I'm sorry, Tancred—" he began. The absurdity of fifteen-year-old Tancred following sweet, diffident little Fai's encouragement into ridiculous predicaments struck him hard, and he had to control himself anew. He pressed his lips tightly together and clenched his jaw, but snickers still escaped him.

Tancred's distress became annoyance. "Uncle, this is not funny!" he said with teenage indignation, and stamped his foot.

Fai often used that particular gesture to express frustration. Had Tancred picked it up from him? Ashura almost lost control again.

He held up a hand. "Tancred, when I did it, at least I didn't get caught."

That statement took a moment to sink in. Then Tancred's jaw dropped, closed, dropped again. He looked like a gasping fish.

Ashura chuckled at his nephew's shock, and added, "So let that be an addendum to the lesson you have learned from today's unpleasantness."

Tancred's mouth snapped shut. With a shy smile, he drew himself up and said, "Yes, Your Majesty. I have learned my lessons well."

Ashura almost started laughing again. "So tell me, how did you like the princess? Did you find her agreeable?"

"Very much so," Tancred began, then he looked at Ashura with suspicion. "How did you know I met her?"

"You told me as much, when you said, and I quote, 'Nothing else happened.' That implies that something did happen. We are fortunate Ukko was too angry to notice your slip."

"Oh."

"So, the princess?" Ashura prompted.

"Her name is Her Radiant Highness Kyllikki Taimi Yrsa Ylijumalatar, Lady of Strength, Lady of the Valley of Deep Mists, Dancer with the Dawn's Light, and Princess of Lintukoto," Tancred proclaimed with indignation, enumerating his betrothed's most important titles and honorifics as Ukko's eldest daughter. "We should stop calling her 'the princess' and use her proper name and styles. She is more than just King Ukko's daughter."

"Ah," said Ashura, understanding at once that the two youngsters must have gotten along very well indeed. Tancred had committed that mouthful of a name to memory after just one meeting. Ashura wasn't sure, but he suspected that Tancred had even pronounced every word correctly, or near enough that it made no difference. Luonnotar's full name and list of titles had been the same kind of impossible tongue twisters, and he recalled learning them just as speedily. He hadn't been so quick to learn Ukko's complete set, though, and still hadn't bothered. "I promise I will do all honor to your betrothed. Forgive me my discourtesy, Tancred. But you know the titles and styles commonly used in our country are not so grandiose as those in Lintukoto. She must grow accustomed."

"We should change that," Tancred insisted earnestly.

Ashura doubted that the assumption of excessively pretentious airs and graces would be a popular move in Seresu. While the members of the Royal House of Vanir did possess a number of quite elaborate, even downright silly, titles, out of tradition their use was eschewed. Usually the family preferred to use wizardly honorifics and styles to enhance their prestige, and used only the more grounded and common royal titles in general. Magic was their strength, after all, and throughout Seresu's history the royal family produced many of the most powerful and learned magicians in the entire country. Naturally, the aristocracy aped their rulers' preferences in hopes of gaining favor. For the royal family and the country's noble classes, simpler forms of address had been in vogue for generations.

"Perhaps," he temporized, not making any promises.

"She deserves it," Tancred insisted. He went on to gush, "She's so beautiful, with long blonde hair and the bluest eyes I've ever seen. She's a year older than I am, but she doesn't act superior at all. She has a very sweet temper, too. She didn't blast me or anything."

Ashura grinned at the pointed comparison to himself. "I see. How fortunate for you."

"But I didn't sneak up on her, either," Tancred added tartly. "I knocked on her door, like a proper gentleman, and she even kept one trusted maidservant with us for propriety's sake."

Ashura wondered if Tancred realized he had just admitted to being in the gentle lady's chambers, where he had no business at all. Ukko might not know it, but he had every right to be infuriated.

Tancred said, "We weren't unchaperoned, but maybe King Ukko wouldn't consider a maidservant good enough. Kyllikki said she was very happy to meet me. Anyway, we had a nice talk before I had to, um..."

"Yes, I know. You had to run."

"We weren't paying attention to what was going on around us. Her father was coming, and I didn't have time to cast a translocation spell," Tancred explained sheepishly.

"I understand. Just please, I beg you, don't—"

"I promise I won't get caught again, Uncle."

Ashura gave Tancred a sour look, but that had been the real lesson, hadn't it? He had even said so just a little while ago. How absurd. He laughed again.

 

* * *

 

 

_Author's Note: Ashura told Fai the tale of his meeting with Luonnotar in Chapter 48 of "Choosing Priorities."_

 


	28. Chapter 28

Naturally, there was great interest in why His Radiant Majesty King Ukko Ylijumala of Lintukoto had arrived so precipitously in Luval and had been so terribly, terribly enraged by The Most High and Royal Tancred, Prince of the Royal House of Vanir, Heir Presumptive to the Ice Phoenix Throne of Seresu.

While neither Ashura nor Tancred breathed a word about the reason, during their absence a great deal of damage had been wrought as the court speculated and gossiped. The boldest courtiers dared to whisper aloud their recollections of Ukko's bellows, his accusations that Tancred had been caught sneaking in to see his betrothed unchaperoned, his implication of Tancred's dishonorable intentions. Those stories spread quickly and grew more lurid with each retelling. Titters and words like "nubile," "ripe," "hot-blooded," and "lusty" were bandied about regarding poor Tancred and his future wife.

The rumors did not remain confined to Tancred's escapade. Blood would tell, so the whispers went. Ashura had had many paramours. Knowing eyes went to Fai, busy tongues again relating Ashura's supposed faithlessness to his dying wife, and the wholly imaginary affair they claimed had produced Fai. Tancred was just like his uncle, said the worst of the gossips.

The slander spread like wildfire, as such slander always did.

All this in less than an hour, Ashura thought with exasperation, as Vainamoinen carefully reported to him. He requested his chief councilor and the rest of his royal council to do what they could to put a stop to the vile rumors, but he knew the gossip would get worse before it got better.

Tancred, though well accustomed to being a target of court gossip, did not take it well. Whispers hissed behind his back, and when he turned to face his accusers, he was greeted only with pleasant smiles and bows.

At one point, his temper exploded. "Say that again and I will run you through!" he burst out to the foolish younger son of an important nobleman. "Meet me on the field like a man, you dung-eating—" His diatribe stopped abruptly when a firm hand landed heavily on his shoulder.

"Tancred," Ashura said, "come with me." He bestowed a granite-hard, unforgiving glare upon the idiot who had riled Tancred. "And you keep a civil tongue in your head, if you do not wish to be exiled to the mines of Dalnegorska." The miscreant blanched and, stammering apologies, bowed so deeply Ashura thought he might topple over. Ashura loomed over the groveling fool for a few heartbeats, glowering down at the bent and trembling back, and then without a word guided Tancred away. Fearful whispers and rustles followed after him.

Good. Perhaps he'd put an end to the gossips' nasty sport, at least for a time.

"Do not allow their unpleasantness to unsettle you, Tancred," he said to his nephew. He kept his hand on Tancred's shoulder, concerned the maligned boy might bolt away and start a duel or brawl. He steered his nephew toward the head of the Hall.

"I can handle what they say about me!" Tancred exclaimed. "But the lies about Kyllikki... I can't abide it. She should not be so abused!"

"I have set my people to silence the wagging tongues," Ashura told him. "However, the gossip was inevitable, given all that occurred. It is your own fault, and Ukko's, as well. He was most indiscreet when he first arrived with you in hand." Ashura sighed. "We might have contained the scandal had he not bellowed his accusations to the entire court."

"They're even talking about you and Fai—"

"Those are old stories. They will die down soon. They always do. Just as this new entertainment will fade," Ashura said. "You should not give the fire more fuel by calling those fools out."

"I can't ignore them!" Tancred declared.

"Do not ignore them," Ashura advised him. "Instead, dismiss them as nothing. Treat the stories with amused contempt, as fallacies that only idiots, churls, and the lowliest of commoners would be stupid and naïve enough to believe." He grinned, with no humor but much cynicism. "Most of those highborn knaves despise any comparison to the common folk, and will be quick enough to disavow any such low associations."

They reached the dais. Kendappa and Sybilla sat on either side of his empty throne. They had sensibly remained out of the quagmire. Both wore bland expressions to disguise their irritation.

"In any case," Ashura continued to Tancred as they ascended the steps, "this will pass when Ukko returns with his daught—with the royal lady Kyllikki. Their visit will provide an excellent distraction from the gossip. Most of the courtiers will be too busy currying favor with Ukko and their future queen."

Tancred muttered and grumbled at that. He took a seat beside his mother.

Ashura also sat down, wearing his most regal and serene expression. His eyes raked his court dispassionately, and a few more courtiers stumbled and drew back. Satisfied, he turned to Kendappa. "Please tell me that you aren't planning any unauthorized trips to inspect your betrothed, as well."

She tilted her head in a way that displayed her long, graceful neck to good advantage. "It would hardly cause much scandal at all," she retorted. "Both King Jarilo and I have been married before. People would simply shrug it off."

When Ashura stared at her in alarm, she laughed and patted his hand. "Truly, I have no intention of doing anything so impulsive. You needn't fear that I might take leave of my senses in such an outrageous way."

"I'm so glad to hear that," he muttered. He sent a servant to tell the musicians to strike up a boisterous country dance. The exercise would keep everyone busy and help to slow the busy tongues. He offered a crumb to Kendappa: "If you like, perhaps some kind of visitation could be arranged." He owed her that much and more.

"Don't go to any trouble," she said with regal composure. "I don't need to be coddled like that. I have agreed to marry King Jarilo, but I don't feel any urge to set eyes on his august person until the official meeting in Thule."

Ashura slowly nodded. "I see." He already knew she wasn't overjoyed by the marriage. He felt the urge to cancel it, despite the political costs. He overrode his unruly emotions with vicious ruthlessness. The political advantages were only secondary to his purposes. This marriage was the only way he could save her from the future.

He changed the subject. "Where are the children? I don't see Fai or the others."

"Sybilla and I had them removed right after you dragged King Ukko and Tancred off for your discussion. The maidservants should be putting them to bed about now, although I doubt they will sleep. They were too excited by Ukko's rather dramatic arrival." Kendappa smiled fondly at the memory. "Of course, they had no idea why Ukko was so furious. They were quite disappointed when you three took your leave of the court." She cast Ashura a knowing look. "So did Ukko really accept your apologies? Just how much groveling did you have to do to preserve the betrothal?"

Ashura proclaimed with arrogance, "I do not grovel. I mediate."

"Of course, how silly of me. How went your mediations, then? I assume all is well, by the performance you and Ukko put on for the court after you returned."

"Naturally they were successful. Ukko is completely reconciled with me and with Tancred. That good humor you witnessed during the toasts was honest." As an afterthought, Ashura added, "He, Queen Rana Niejta, and their daughter will be our guests for the Lumi comedy. He was most pleased by my invitation. They will also attend the feast beforehand, and probably some of the dancing afterwards."

This satisfied statement did not receive the approval he expected. Kendappa sat up straight and shrieked "What?" loud enough to attract attention even over the music and dancing. "Oh, no, there is no time!"

"Kendappa, calm down." Her reaction bewildered him. Usually, she liked entertaining important guests.

She did not relax, but she did lower her tone. "That play is the day after tomorrow! Have you warned anyone of this? Told anyone at all? Oh, you fool, we have so little time to prepare."

"I'm telling you now," Ashura said guiltily. In fact, he hadn't thought to tell anyone yet. It had completely slipped his mind.

She buried her face in her hands. "Oh, you thoughtless..." She dropped her hands to her lap and lifted her head. Her lips firmed with resolution, and her bright gaze grew steely. "Well, I shall just have to rise to the occasion and do something spectacular."

"What is this?" Sybilla asked, leaning over Ashura. "What did I hear about an occasion and something spectacular?"

"This thoughtless fool invited King Ukko, Queen Rana Niejta, and their eldest daughter here for the Lumi play." Kendappa gestured at Ashura with sharp irritation.

Sybilla looked horrified. "But it's so soon!"

"And he hasn't even instructed anyone to take care of the arrangements!"

"Oh, no! What can be done in so little time?" Sybilla asked, wringing her hands in distress. "They are my son's future wife and parents by marriage. The King and Queen of Lintukoto!"

"Ladies," Ashura said, feeling out of his depth. The royal ladies ignored him, and fired ideas at each other with dizzying speed.

"We will have to inspect the menus," said Kendappa. "We must make certain they are suitably grand."

"I wonder what dishes the king and queen prefer," said Sybilla. "We must have a wizard contact the Lintukotoan court officials to find out what would be best."

"We may need to send some wizards to procure certain Lintukotoan delicacies. I am certain we will not be able to purchase everything we need in Luval Town, especially on such short notice."

"Ladies," Ashura tried again. They were talking over him like he wasn't even present! "Ladies..."

"We must also instruct the musicians to prepare dances from Lintukoto to honor Their Radiant Majesties," said Sybilla. "I'm sure they and their daughter must be skilled at court dances."

"We have so much to do," lamented Kendappa. "Everything must be of the finest for your son's betrothed wife and her parents. The best silver and goldware must be polished again. There cannot be a single speck of tarnish or dirt. Oh! We must bring out the very best wine and spirits for this occasion."

Ashura exchanged a helpless look with Tancred. Then Tancred, the coward, got up, bowed to Ashura, his mother, and Kendappa, and with little dignity fled the Great Hall.

The royal ladies didn't even notice the prince's craven escape.

"Maybe we could have the huntsmen arrange a hunt for morning entertainment?" Sybilla suggested.

"We cannot trust the weather," Kendappa contradicted her. "The game beasts will go to ground should another storm rush through. That rules out winter sports, as well, although we could plan some outdoor alternative should the weather prove clement." She chewed her lip. "But for inside... Maybe another demonstration of arms? I have heard that Ukko enjoys them as much as your son."

"Yes, that will do," Sybilla agreed, nodding feverishly. "We can ask Lord Taishakuten and Lord Matas to perform again. We must rearrange the seating assignments for meals, too, especially at the high table. Ukko and Ashura must share prominence in the center seats, of course, both being kings of equal stature. Ukko's wife can sit to his right, then Tancred next to her, then the princess."

Kendappa said, "We must adhere to Lintukotoan precedence and protocol. We don't want to give offense."

"Isn't there an ambassador from Lintukoto in residence here at court?"

"Indeed there is. He never does much besides gossip, eat, sleep, and drink like a fish, the laggard."

"Then he can make himself useful now."

"Yes, we shall apply to him and his staff for assistance. Let him earn his keep for once."

"Fortunately, it is the Festival of Lighting the Night," said Sybilla. "Much is already prepared, but... Oh, no!"

"What?"

"Bedchambers of appropriate status must be readied, and all the grandest apartments are full! We have no accommodations suitable for a visiting king. We will have to move someone to lesser rooms. It will be such a terrible insult, but there's no helping it."

"Ashura can move," Kendappa said heartlessly. "This was his idea, after all."

Ashura grew more and more alarmed as he listened to their arrangements. "Ladies," he said yet again. "Ukko and his party will not be staying overnight."

Kendappa treated him to one of her very best scowls. "They are the King and Queen of Lintukoto," she said, as if that explained everything.

Sybilla stared at him as though he were the greatest clod head in history. "Their daughter is Tancred's betrothed."

"You yourself want this alliance," Kendappa pointed out. "We will make certain that nothing disrupts your plans. So you must excuse us, Your Majesty."

"Excuse you?" Ashura echoed, baffled.

"We have much to do and no time to do it in."

Kendappa and Sybilla looked at one another and nodded. In unison they rose, curtseyed to Ashura, and, arm in arm, descended the dais and marched out of the Hall.

Ashura could only gape after them.

The musicians struck up a lively tune. Dancers twirled on the floor. Conversation flowed. Courtiers gathered along the sideboards, partaking of the plentiful food and drink.

"What just happened?" Ashura asked the air. He received no answer, of course. He suspected that the next two days would prove interesting. Interesting in its most unpleasant, disagreeable sense, as well as exceedingly uncomfortable. It seemed that Kendappa and Sybilla had at long last found common ground.

With a sinking heart, he recalled his own recent observation that entertaining foreign royalty was expensive and exhausting. He resigned himself to exhaustion until Ukko's visit was over.

A small commotion broke out along one side of the court, just loud enough for Ashura to hear over the music. A knot of courtiers, servants, and guards crowded the area, blocking Ashura's view. They gave low cheers then casually broke up, the gentlefolk rejoining the general revelry, the guards and servants returning to their duties.

Taishakuten and Ilmarinen nonchalantly trailed after the crowd, each sauntering off in a different direction. They both looked somewhat disheveled, and quite pleased with themselves.

On the floor behind them lay several unconscious gentlemen. A few servants and guards began to quietly remove the evidence.

With a sinking heart, Ashura recalled the new gossip circulating about Tancred, his bride, and even himself and Fai.

He did not look forward to the next two days.

 


	29. Chapter 29

The next morning started as any other day, with breakfast in the family's private solar. Sybilla and Kendappa kept conversation to a minimum and rushed through their meal in a most uncharacteristic fashion. The younger children followed their lead. Tancred slouched in his chair, shoulders hunched, yet managed to gobble his food even faster than the women.

"What is the hurry?" Ashura asked, his glance taking in both Kendappa and Sybilla. "Neither of you ever breaks your fast so quickly."

Kendappa waved away a servant who offered to refill her cup. "You know we have many preparations to make for Ukko's arrival tomorrow. We must get started early."

"I thought you two took care of that last night."

Kendappa looked at him like he had sprouted a second head. "We only got started. Do you have any idea how much work you created for us?"

Sybilla added, "We issued instructions to the servants for the major preparations, and they have been working through the night, but there are a number of details that require our personal supervision."

"Everything must be perfect," declared Kendappa.

Ashura frowned at them. "I do not understand all this fuss. It is the midwinter festival. We already have menus full of special food, many extra entertainments, and the castle is even better decorated than usual for a festival." He smiled down at Fai. "Fai even put up all those magical rainbow lights. Surely that is enough."

"It is not enough. We must include Lintukotoan items."

"Ukko will only be here for a day. Less," Ashura complained. "He specifically stated that he could only remain for the afternoon and evening. He has his own court celebrations to attend."

"Nonetheless, any visit by another royal family is a great occasion," Kendappa huffed at him. "You would expect the same treatment should you visit Lintukoto for even a few hours."

"I would not," Ashura protested. "Not for such a simple and impromptu visit. I am not so pompous or demanding as all that."

Kendappa made an indelicate noise and exchanged a cynical look with Sybilla. Both women arched their brows.

"I'm not," Ashura insisted, offended by their response.

"Yes, Your Majesty," said Kendappa.

"Of course, Your Majesty," said Sybilla.

The two were barely repressing smirks, Ashura noted. Curse them. He was not that bad!

The two women exchanged another look—amused, this time—and rose together.

Sybilla said, "With your permission, Gracious Majesty, we must go now."

Fai piped up, "Oh, can we come help?" Mielu and Virender nodded enthusiastically and added their voices to the plea.

"Of course you can help, children," Kendappa said kindly. "We can make use of any willing hands." She looked pointedly at Ashura, who despite the obvious hint did not offer any assistance. Her lips pursed. "Have we permission to leave, Your Most Gracious Majesty?"

He sulked, folding his arms across his chest and saying, quite ungraciously, "You may all go and waste your time and my money however you please."

Still smirking, they departed with no more ceremony. The young children followed after them like a trail of ducklings. Ashura's irritation changed to amusement at that image. He turned to Tancred. "And what do you plan for today? Are you going to join in the madness, as well?"

Tancred slouched even more. "No, Your Majesty."

"I suppose we had best stay out of their way as much as possible."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Are you looking forward to seeing your betrothed tomorrow?"

Tancred nodded and pushed his food around on his plate with a fork.

The sullen answers were tiresome. Last night, he and Tancred had been able to converse, despite the trying circumstances, but for no reason Ashura could discern, today was different. Ashura supposed he was being treated to the moodiness that Sybilla had complained of, and felt a pang of sympathy for her.

"Mother and Lady Kendappa have planned everything, including what I will wear," Tancred muttered. "They've planned what you're going to wear, too."

Ashura took that information in good humor, as it was nothing new for him. "Kendappa often plans my wardrobe for important occasions," he informed Tancred.

The boy grunted, whether in agreement or just out of ill humor, Ashura didn't know.

In any case, Ashura didn't have to tolerate Tancred's bad mood. He pushed away from the table and got up. "Enjoy the rest of your breakfast," he said, and walked out. Another grumpy grunt followed after him.

He spent the morning finding excuses to avoid the mayhem Kendappa and Sybilla created. His first destination, the Great Hall, was remarkably thin of company. It was usually full of courtiers about some business or amusement, but only a handful were present to greet him. When questioned, they informed him that Kendappa and Sybilla had ordered the heralds to issue hourly announcements of the great visit by the King and Queen of Lintukoto on the morrow.

"Most are making preparations, Majesty," one lady told him. "They are seeing to their clothes and jewels for tomorrow, and making certain to review Lintukotoan protocol. It is quite exciting."

The lady appeared fidgety. Ashura asked, "Am I keeping you from doing the same, madam? How inconsiderate of me."

"Oh, Your Majesty could never be anything but gracious and—"

"Of course. Thank you, my lady," he interrupted, giving her a slight bow and wandering away.

It appeared Ukko's coming visit had provided one bright spot. As Ashura had predicted to Tancred the night before, the court had been distracted from its latest round of nasty gossip.

Ashura did a bit of searching, and found Vainamoinen surrounded by all the captains and officers of the royal guards. The Most Worthy Lord of the Council bestowed upon his king a harried frown. "Yes, Your Majesty?" The others all bowed.

Ashura's eyes flicked to the horde. "What is this? Am I missing something?"

"We are merely discussing security for King Ukko's visit," Vainamoinen said.

Those kinds of preparations were understandable. A visiting king and queen did merit some enhanced security. "I assume all is in readiness?" said Ashura. "There should not be much difficulty, just a few extra guards. The visit will be for less than a full day, after all."

Vainamoinen looked at him the same way Sybilla and Kendappa had: as though he had lost his mind.

In Ashura's view, everyone else had lost their minds. "I did not expect that my invitation to King Ukko would set the entire castle into an uproar."

"Majesty?" Vainamoinen indicated the officers, who had backed off to a respectful distance.

"Yes, please finish, then we can talk."

Vainamoinen issued a few final orders and dismissed the officers, who bowed and departed.

"Walk with me," said Ashura. He began strolling in a leisurely manner.

"Of course, Majesty." Vainamoinen had to visibly rein in a desire to rush, and forced himself to keep to his king's dawdling pace.

Ashura noted that Vainamoinen, like the lady in the Great Hall, seemed distracted and fidgety. "I see Kendappa and Sybilla's hands at work in this."

Vainamoinen's lips turned downward. "Yes, Your Majesty," he said in a long-suffering tone.

"I do apologize for all the fuss."

Vainaimoinen's fingers twitched—in irritation or frustration, Ashura couldn't tell. The chief councilor clasped his hands behind his back.

"Majesty," he said, "I hesitate to ask, but..."

"Go on."

"Majesty, do you have any idea how large a matter this visit is becoming?"

Ashura shrugged. "I know Kendappa and Sybilla are blowing it out of proportion. I merely invited Ukko, his queen, and his daughter to dinner and the play tomorrow. I also told him he could bring a few close retainers if he liked."

"Our officials have been consulting with his officials via magical communications," Vainamoinen stated. "We have agreed that he shall bring not only those family members, but also several ministers, several more high-ranking wizards, an escort of his royal guards, and enough trusted servants for their particular needs."

Ashura brushed off those revelations. "Ukko indicated that he could only stay the afternoon and evening. He seemed mostly interested in viewing the Lumi play. I knew he wasn't coming unescorted, but it hardly signifies. Since we are already in the midst of a festival, I didn't think any additional preparations would be required."

"His Majesty the King of Seresu does understand that a visit from a foreign king is a state matter, does he not?"

Ashura bridled at the unveiled sarcasm. "This was only intended as a family visit and as a way to calm Ukko's temper," he said defensively. "He is my former brother by marriage, and his daughter is my heir's betrothed wife."

"And if King Ukko had issued such an invitation to you?"

"It would be no different."

"Exactly," Vainamoinen said.

Ashura scowled at the inference. Kendappa and Sybilla had leveled the same accusation at him. "I would not expect to set Ukko's household into such a tizzy."

"Majesty..." Vainamoinen sighed and gave up on whatever he had been about to say. "Majesty, I'm sure all this fuss and bother is of little interest to you. You should not be troubled by such trivial matters. Rest assured that all will be ready for King Ukko's visit. Why don't you go enjoy some tea and pastries, or visit with some friends in the court?" It was a polite, if not terribly subtle, hint that Ashura should get out of the way.

"Perhaps there are some documents I should review, as well?" Ashura suggested sweetly.

"Indeed, there are," Vainamoinen agreed, nodding enthusiastically. "If you want to work, that would be most useful."

Ashura gave in to the inevitable. "Very well. I suppose I can find some way to occupy my time productively," he said with feigned politeness. "When I have finished with my documents, I shall go to my rooms and take a nap."

He had hoped the sarcasm might make an impression, but Vainamoinen's response was not as he had expected. Instead of looking suitably chastised, Vainamoinen's eyes widened with surprise that swiftly morphed into private amusement. Ashura did not understand what was so funny, and the Lord of the Council did not enlighten him. Vainamoinen bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty. I think that an admirable plan."

What was this? Ashura wondered what other havoc was brewing. Perhaps Vainamoinen was right. Perhaps he should retreat and just let his officials take care of everything. "Thank you for your time, my lord," he said. "Please continue with your business. I know it is pressing."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Vainamoinen still looked amused.

Leaving Vainamoinen to his ridiculous preparations, Ashura did exactly as stated. He retreated to his office and read documents for a while. During deep winter there was always plenty to review. The frequent storms caused much damage, so there were always repairs, supplies, and expenditures that required his approval. It was routine work he could do in his sleep, and served to pass some time. He took Vainamoinen's advice and ordered tea, as well.

In his boredom he conceived an entertaining idea for a spell. No doubt his council would consider it ill-advised, but that mattered not to him. He owed a little something to Davros and Skudra. In fact, he thought his trifling spell might even prove useful. He could hold off on using it until he wanted to restart the war with Arimaspea on his own schedule. Skudra would be so enraged with Ashura's harmless little prank that he would probably roll on the floor and chew the carpets for a full ten minutes, and then send military forces to retaliate in the way he knew best.

Naturally, Seresu's troops would be prepared for them.

Smirking, Ashura worked out the basics for his new spell. When he was satisfied with his progress, he arranged a special commission for a carved opal jewel, one that was a duplicate of the talisman Davros had sent to the conspirators in Spou.

Still amused, he went for a walk about the castle. In his absence, the decorations had become even more ostentatious. Servants rushed to and fro. He heard musicians practicing, and also saw the troupe of actors rehearse some of their play. Maids carried fine silks, laces, and velvets to the laundry to be cleaned and pressed, or to the embroidery workshop to have more embellishments added so that their masters and mistresses might outshine each other. Outside in the snow, Taishakuten, Matas, and a number of other highborn swordsmen were busy choreographing an elaborate martial demonstration using flashy saber techniques.

Kendappa and Sybilla had been very busy, indeed.

Dinnertime approached, and Ashura decided to go change for the meal. When he arrived at his apartments, he finally understood what had amused Vainamoinen so much.

His chambers were in an uproar. Furniture had been rearranged, woodwork freshly polished, and the hearths emptied and scrubbed. A few servants were even washing down the walls. Through the open bedchamber door, Ashura could see that his bed was stripped of all its linens, blankets, furs, coverlets, and pillows. Even the bed curtains had been removed. A set of curtains he had never seen before lay nearby, waiting to be hung from the elaborate canopy. More servants streamed through the entryways. The ones heading in bore fresh linens, lush bedding, and new cushions for the bed and chairs. The outward bound servants carried chests and baskets of his personal belongings!

"Just what is going forth here?" he asked, rather loudly.

"You are moving," came Kendappa's light, pleasant tones from right behind him.

He whirled on his cousin. "What?"

"You're moving," she repeated. "You have been for several hours now. In fact, you're almost done." She cocked her head at his thunderstruck expression. "Don't worry, it's only for tonight and tomorrow."

"Vainamoinen..." he growled in realization, remembering the amused light in his liegeman's eyes some hours earlier.

"What about Vainamoinen?"

"He knew about this!"

"Of course," said Kendappa. "You did, too. Sybilla and I spoke of it last night, remember?"

"This is insane! Put it all back the way it was."

"We need suitable apartments for King Ukko and his family."

"Ukko is not staying overnight!"

"Nevertheless, we must make accommodation for him, to maintain his royal dignity. Your quarters are the grandest and most suitable for a visiting king."

"It is ridiculous. I am King of Seresu! I should not be inconvenienced like this. What of my royal dignity?"

"We will make it plain that your generosity and regard for Ukko are so great that you would not hear of him being housed in lesser quarters for even an hour of his visit," she replied with a voice full of honey. "He will be so flattered by your consideration that nothing should bother him. Tancred's little indiscretion will be completely forgotten."

"It is already forgotten!"

"Of course it is, Your Majesty," Kendappa agreed mendaciously.

"Ukko does not need a bed. He is not staying the night."

"He does need a private retreat, however. He and his family may need to withdraw to rest and refresh themselves before the evening entertainment."

Ashura spotted a heap of boxes marching past. They almost completely obscured their bearer, but a flash of blond hair gave away his identity. Ashura held out a hand to stop the waist-high miscreant. "A short servant indeed," he said. "What is this, Fai? What have you to do with this?"

Fai's blue eyes peeked out from one side of his burdens. "I'm helping!" he chirruped.

"So I see."

"I'll be right back!" The heap of boxes trundled off. Into Fai's quarters, Ashura noted with a frown. A manservant carrying a small trunk also went into Fai's quarters. That made no sense. Surely there were better places to store his effects?

Grinning, Kendappa said, "Need I mention that you will not be sleeping in your own bedchamber tonight? We are airing everything out, and putting fresh linens on the bed. You will be sleeping elsewhere."

"Elsewhere?" Ashura queried, not hiding his irritation with her. "Do you expect me to sleep on the floor in the hallway?"

Fai leaned out the doorway, calling, "You're staying with me!" He popped back inside to order the servant to put the chest "over there." He sounded rather bossy.

Wordlessly, Ashura looked at Kendappa.

"Would you prefer to stay with your mistress?" she asked with false sincerity. "You would have to share her bed with her husband, of course. From the rumors I have heard, Lord Matas might not object. Though I suppose you could evict Matas and make _him_ sleep on the floor in the hallway."

Ashura did not have a chance to retort as he would have liked, as Fai chose that moment to scamper back to his side.

"I'm getting everything all ready," Fai burbled. "I've had the servants move all the stuff you'll need for two days, and it's all arranged. They're changing the linens on my bed for you. It's almost as big as yours, and you'll have it all to yourself, so you should be just fine. I'm having a temporary bed set up in the main room for me, and—"

"I am not taking your bed from you!" Ashura burst out.

Fai's little face fell. "Isn't it good enough for you?" he asked. "I know it's not a king's apartment, but it's really nice..."

Guilt stabbed through Ashura. "Your quarters are grand and beautiful, Fai, very much so. I deeply appreciate the trouble you have gone to for me. But I would not displace you from them. I am certain there is a spare bed somewhere in this great hulk of a castle that I can use."

"That would be terrible," Fai pronounced. "Kings are important. It would look really bad, especially with King Ukko using your rooms. You need to be somewhere good, so I decided you should stay with me." He sounded bossy again.

"Fai is correct," Kendappa pointed out, eyes twinkling. "You just complained of your own royal dignity. Fai's rooms are the next best, after yours. Mine are too feminine to be suitable. Tancred's family also needs to be in stately quarters, for the sake of appearances. He is betrothed to Ukko's daughter. Besides, Ukko would find it strange if you had moved somewhere less regal. He would expect you to take over another royal chamber."

Ashura scowled at her. He considered throwing her out of her rooms, feminine décor or no. It would serve her right.

"It will be fine, you'll see," Fai said, patting Ashura's hand in such a condescending fashion that Ashura couldn't help but smile.

He hated to put a damper on so much excitement and enthusiasm from Fai, but he also didn't want to discommode Fai. Ashura had never forgotten his first meeting with Fai, nor Fai's deprivation at that time. Fai had literally had nothing. Ashura had never taken anything from Fai without important reasons, and certainly would not merely for the sake of convenience. Yet clearly Fai didn't consider his offer an imposition.

Ashura said, "Did I hear you say that you had decided on this, Fai?"

Fai nodded vigorously. "Lady Kendappa was going to just dress up some other place all fancy and put your stuff there, but I decided it would be better if you stayed with me. My rooms are much nicer than the ones Lady Kendappa picked out."

"It was all his own idea," Kendappa confirmed. "When he takes an idea into his head, he is quite stubb—" She gave a little cough. "Er, firm and decisive. You should be proud. He takes after you in that regard."

"I'm a D-titled wizard and the Royal Wizard," Fai said with arrogance that Ashura found adorable. "I'm the King's Shield. It's best if you stay with me. Everyone agrees."

"Your list of titles grows apace, and your authority with it," Ashura said. How could he resist such overwhelming and charming presumption? Fai was such a sweet boy, and generous, too. He might easily have become grasping, given his history of deprivation, but instead he was quite a sharing child.

Besides, it could have been much worse. Suppose Fai had decided to move out and give his quarters to Ashura? The guilt would have been horrible. "I gratefully accept your offer, Lord Wizard," Ashura said formally. "However, I will not take your bed from you. I can sleep just as well in the spare bed you have already arranged."

"But, that's not—"

Ashura held up a finger to hush Fai's protests. "As your king, I must insist. It is your part to obey."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Fai acquiesced with better grace than many of Ashura's advisors.

He probably didn't really want to give up his bed, anyway.

Fai performed an elaborate, courtly bow, which in Ashura's view was also quite cute. Rising, Fai said, "With Your Majesty's permission, I will go finish making the arrangements."

"Granted," Ashura said. His lips twitched, but he valiantly resisted the impulse to smile. He didn't want to insult Fai's grand gestures.

Fai bowed again and ran back into his rooms to order the servants about some more. Ashura said absently, "He really ought to smile." Any other child would have been smiling or even laughing to have gotten his way. Fai expressed his pleasure with enthusiasm and bright eyes, but never did even a small smile enliven his face. More and more often Ashura felt the lack. Children should laugh with joy and delight.

"I wonder if he ever will," said Kendappa soberly. She, too, remembered Fai's dreadful condition when he had first come to Luval. "At least things like this make him happy."

"It's probably not a good idea, though," Ashura said. "I cannot predict when my nights will be troubled. My own quarters are shielded so any nightmares don't affect Fai, but if one should strike tonight..."

"I had forgotten about that." Kendappa pressed her fingers to her lips. "It has been a long time since you have had such bad dreams. I never considered it."

She spoke the truth, Ashura realized. No prophecies had troubled him since Spou. That last one, of the weeping wind imprisoning him, of Fai's moon crossing his, and of shattering ice—he had dreamed it while sleeping near Fai. Fai's sleep had been disturbed by the psychic turmoil, but a simple lullaby spell had quieted him. The minor enchantment might not even have been necessary, other than as a sop to Ashura's conscience. Fai had only tossed a bit, and had not wakened, even with the worst of that dream. Ashura recalled that only his most violent dreams of murdering Seresu had ever caused Fai any real problems, and he had not had those particular dreams in almost two years.

Ashura had not even dreamed of that wretched avalanche since before Spou. Sometimes he wished he would dream of it again, just to discover more about it, but no further visions of it ever came to him. Such was the perversity of his dreams.

The memory of that dream—of little Fai grimly facing those massive torrents of snow, ice, and debris—always made Ashura want to clutch his chest and pant in panic. He controlled his breathing before it could get out of hand. That dream had the power to drive him to foolish acts, like taking Fai to Spou.

Ashura forced himself to smile as naturally as possible. "As Fai said, it will be fine. I'm sure I can create some kind of localized shield to filter the worst of it. But you are right. Sleep has been kind lately."

Fai's head popped out of his doorway. "Okay, everything is ready! Come see where I've put your stuff! You can rearrange it if you want, though," he added magnanimously.

"I think Fai's new titles have gone to his head," Ashura said to his giggling cousin. Fai's involvement had completely reconciled him to his change in living quarters. How could he ever deny Fai anything? He took Kendappa's hand. "Come. Let's both go see the arrangements Fai has devised."

 


	30. Chapter 30

Fai preened like a peacock when Ashura proclaimed the arrangements "absolutely perfect" and announced that he would not change a single thing.

In truth, there wasn't much to change. Aside from an extra bed—which in reality was a luxuriously appointed cot—Fai's quarters only held those items Ashura would require for one or two nights' stay. Still, that was considerable. Kings did not travel light, even when they only moved to the apartment next door. Among the items deemed essential were toiletries, chests of clothes, caskets of jewelry, towels, blankets, cushions adorned with royal crests, magical tools, and a variety of small personal comforts like books and writing materials. The other possessions that identified him personally had been removed from his own quarters and stored elsewhere.

He gave a little snort at the thought of that. Ukko would know well enough whose rooms he had been given. Ashura saw no need for the attempts to hide their owner's identity, and yet his apartment had been stripped of all his personal belongings.

Fai hadn't tried to completely renovate his quarters in his efforts to make them "suitable" for Ashura. Still, he had done too much. He had removed a few pieces of his own furniture to make room for the extra bed and for Ashura's favorite chair. At least Ashura had managed to stop him from redoing the bedchamber. Fai should at least be comfortable in his own bed, Ashura thought.

"I don't have a clock out here for you," Fai remarked thoughtfully. "I forgot to ask the servants to bring one." He went into his bedchamber and returned with the elaborate, gem-bedecked timepiece he had received from Taishakuten in the Southlands. "You can use this one. I think it's the best one in the castle." His fingers stroked the satiny, golden surface possessively.

"That's very thoughtful, Fai," said Ashura, "but I would prefer one of my own. I will have a servant fetch one." He would not take a clock that Fai obviously adored. That was too much. "That is your clock. It was a gift to you."

"Okay," Fai said, but his voice held a note of doubt.

"Take it back into your bedchamber," Ashura told him. "Clocks are personal." They weren't really, at least not to Ashura, but Fai needed to keep some things for himself. A little covetousness was quite normal, and something Ashura wanted to encourage in Fai. There was such a thing as being too self-effacing and altruistic. Sometimes Fai needed to think of himself first.

"Oh, that was so sweet," Kendappa said when Fai was out of earshot. "He's been so good during this festival."

"Yes, he has," Ashura agreed in a doting tone. Fai was perfect.

At that point, a servant arrived to inform His Majesty, the Royal Lady, and the Royal Wizard that all was in readiness for dinner.

As part of the midwinter festival, the meal was another glorious feast, with courtiers glowing in fine clothes and jewels, entertainers performing between courses, and a plethora of elaborate dishes. Ashura noted a number of unusual creations served to the diners at the high table, and made mention of it.

"The cooks have prepared some Lintukotoan delicacies," said Sybilla. She sat on his right, and gestured at a silver tureen filled with a rich stew that smelled of lamb, currants, and spices. "That one is delicious. Do try some, Your Majesty."

"We are their test subjects," Kendappa said, laughing. She sat on his left, and Fai sat next to her. "They do not often use some of the ingredients we procured from Lintukoto."

"This juice is really sour," Fai said, lips puckering. He set his cup down with a moue of distaste. "Really, really sour."

"Seaberry juice," Kendappa said. "It should be a little tart, but not that much. Perhaps this batch requires more sugar."

"I like strawberries better."

"Everyone likes strawberries better," Ashura said. "I don't care for seaberries, either. I remember we included some with our meals when Luonnotar first came to Seresu, much to her displeasure. She insisted that seaberries should remain absent from the royal table." He paused, thinking back to those happy times.

"Ashura?" Kendappa asked. "What is it?"

He smiled to reassure her that he was not again pining about Luonnotar's death. "I was just reminiscing about her reaction to Seresian foods. Many of the foodstuffs are the same, but the Lintukotoans do not have the Seresian taste for sweet foods. They do not include many in their diet. Poor Luonnotar. She was surrounded by spices, fruit sauces, and creamed dishes."

"No sweets?" Fai asked, aghast.

"Oh, they have a few," Ashura told him, "particularly dessert dishes. They enjoy berries with cream."

"I like that."

"So do I," Ashura agreed with a laugh. "But they do not often make fruit or cream sauces for meats and such, and some of their bread is downright bitter. However, as long as our cooks avoid the least pleasant of Lintukotoan recipes, we should have a fine feast tomorrow that will honor Ukko and that our people can also enjoy."

"That is our intention," Sybilla said confidently. "The ambassador from Lintukoto provided us with suggestions for food, manners, and protocol."

"Protocol and manners should not vary significantly. I do not recall Luonnotar mentioning any real differences."

"No, they did not sound any different from our own," Sybilla agreed. "But we still had to check. Things might have changed over the years."

Tancred, sitting on his mother's right, said, "I hope Lady Kyllikki doesn't hate our food, like Queen Luonnotar." He looked appalled at the very idea of his princess's taste buds being so offended.

"Luonnotar did not hate our food," Ashura assured him. "She enjoyed much of it, and grew to appreciate dishes like beet soups and fruit sauces on meats. She even sampled different types of pickled beets, eggs, and fish, which, I must admit, can be difficult tastes to acquire." He grinned at the sour face Fai made, and went on, "No one likes everything, Tancred. Do not worry."

Tancred looked doubtful, but did not comment further.

The platters were removed, and the diners paused to watch a flamboyant juggler perform. When that entertainment concluded, another course was served. Ashura was amused to note that it overflowed with Seresian sweets. He saw cloudberry preserves with cream, rose hip and cranberry soups, plums cooked with spices in red wine, candies made from oven-dried apple purees. One dessert in particular caught his eye: Strawberry tartlets.

It was quite a luxurious treat, and unusual at the midwinter festival, as it was made from fresh or magically preserved fruit. Like cloudberries, strawberries were a wild, summer berry. They were rarely served as anything but jams and jellies during winter, as these could be made during summer for later consumption, or even from stores of dried fruits.

Some of the berries of summer were frozen in the mountain snow or preserved by magic. Naturally, magically preserved fruits were the most expensive, and also the tastiest, as they were indistinguishable with fresh-picked produce. Usually, such fruits were hoarded for more important events, like the Sunbirth Festival at the start of spring.

The children must have bedeviled the cooks for the treats. Ashura remembered Sybilla's complaints about how Virender and Mielu were learning to make strawberry tartlets. He cast a sly glance at her, wondering if she even noticed that the product of her children's illicit cooking lesson was now on offer.

As he had expected, she saw nothing amiss in the desserts. She had probably forgotten all about her rant and Virender and Mielu's odd behavior. However, Ashura also caught sight of that mischievous duo, sitting next to Tancred. They were grabbing the tartlets for themselves, while whispering and giggling in a most unbecoming manner. They looked down the table at Fai, then noticed Ashura staring at them and looked away. They couldn't stop giggling, though.

Ashura turned his head toward Fai. The child also had a strawberry tartlet on his plate, and an unholy look in his expressive blue eyes. He was watching the court intently. Ashura looked again to Virender and Mielu. They were looking in the same direction as Fai.

Warily, Ashura focused on the same area as the children, which happened to be the table closest to the dais. It held many of the highest noblemen present: Court wizards, royal council members, Taishakuten, Vainamoinen, Ilmarinen and his wife...

Their table was even now being served with a variety of sweets that included a large platter of strawberry tartlets.

Strawberry tartlets.

Ashura frowned. When Sybilla had fussed about them, he had at the time felt there was something unpleasant about them, something totally unrelated to Sybilla's irritation. That sense of unease returned.

He remembered what it was just as a serving man presented the platter to Vainamoinen and Ilmarinen.

While the court had been in the Southlands, the two brothers had consumed too much wine at a feast. They had almost come to blows over strawberry tartlets, which had not even been served that day. Something about how their old tutor—governess—milkmaid—whatever—had favored one brother over the other with bigger servings or some such nonsense. Ashura couldn't recall the exact details, but he did remember that the dispute had been utterly ridiculous, and that the mere mention of strawberry tartlets had somehow transformed two mature, powerful magnates into squabbling brats.

He looked again at Fai. His sweet, darling little son had turned his attention to his own strawberry tartlet, and was most innocently eating the wretched dessert. Fai didn't so much as glance at Ilmarinen, Vainamoinen, or his co-conspirators. He appeared to be simply a little boy enjoying a delightful treat.

That naughty little rascal.

Vainamoinen and Ilmarinen were now staring at the platter of strawberry tartlets. Their expressions were darker than thunderclouds.

Ashura harbored no illusions about the identity of the scheme's author. This bit of mischief could only be Fai's invention. Virender and Mielu were complicit, certainly, but they had not been present in the Southlands when the childish feud over strawberry tartlets had been revealed.

"And I considered him perfect just a little while ago," Ashura muttered under his breath, but he also felt a most inappropriate delight. Fai had been tipsy during the original altercation, and yet he remembered, even after all this time! He had concocted and coordinated such an elaborate, sly endeavor several days earlier, and seen it carried through. Ashura knew he shouldn't be pleased, but he couldn't help experiencing an upwelling of pride in Fai's achievements, no matter how improper they were.

Ashura settled back in his chair, watching events unfold with a most unkingly glee.

Vainamoinen and Ilmarinen had a low, intense discussion.

Fai helped himself to a second strawberry tartlet.

Vainamoinen and Ilmarinen, both red-faced now, each pointed to the same tartlet on the platter: the largest. The serving man attempted to placate the angry lords. The lords would not be placated, and pointed again to the same tartlet.

Ilmarinen's wife said something to him. She was scowling. Ilmarinen never took his eyes off the tartlet, and his pointing finger never wavered. The poor woman huffed and went on eating.

The brothers exchanged a few short words. Both faces got even redder, but neither man backed down.

In disgust, Taishakuten grabbed a knife and got up. He snatched the platter from the unhappy servant, slammed it onto the table, and proceeded to cut the offending tartlet into two equal parts. Without ceremony, he scooped up both halves with his bare hands and dumped them onto Vainamoinen and Ilmarinen's plates.

The brothers glared death at him, but neither said or did anything more violent than that. Taishakuten sat back down. A servant offered him a small towel and a bowl of scented hand-washing water. Taishakuten fastidiously cleaned the strawberry and pastry residue from his fingers.

Vainamoinen hissed something at the unfortunate servant who had, until recently, held the platter. Ilmarinen followed suit. That servant collected their plates and scurried off. Another servant, looking no less unhappy than the first, returned shortly with clean, empty plates. Yet another followed him, bearing a fresh platter of strawberry tartlets.

Vainamoinen and Ilmarinen glared at each other, at the platter, and back at each other. Both pointed again. At the same tartlet. Again.

Naturally, the largest.

Fai placidly ate his second tartlet.

 


	31. Chapter 31

"Fai, come with me," Ashura said to his son soon after dinner. "We need to talk."

"About what?" Fai asked.

"Strawberry tartlets."

Fai's eyes grew round, and guilt flashed across his features.

"I see you understand," Ashura remarked with satisfaction. "How quick-witted you are."

Fai nodded. He hung his head and trudged after Ashura.

The child was putting on quite a morose show, but Ashura suspected that Fai was not the least bit repentant. At dinner Fai had proved himself a consummate actor. Not that Ashura needed any proof that Fai had become skilled at deception. He had seen other instances of Fai's talents in that regard. Fai had lived in Luval's royal court for two years now, and absorbed its lessons well.

Ashura was pleased about that, as the ability to dissemble was an excellent survival trait in any hazardous situation. Royal courts would not be the worst dangers Fai would face in his life. Ashura was also pleased about Fai's recent mischievous streak, and did not intend their talk to be a scolding.

After the tartlet incident, it had been all he could do to keep a straight face. It had been an excellent joke, and no harm had been done. The victims had managed to get past their dispute over strawberry tartlets, primarily because the servants had found two large ones the same size, or so close that no one could tell the difference. These they had served on a platter full of noticeably smaller tartlets, and so neither Vainamoinen nor Ilmarinen had been slighted. Not that they hadn't scrutinized the new offerings very, very closely, but at least a brotherly brawl had been averted.

Ashura repressed a chortle. He resolved to reward the enterprising serving men, and find more suitable occupations for them. They were so clever, they deserved better positions than serving food to petulant, ungrateful noblemen.

The rest of dinner had been a trial, but an amusing one. Several of Taishakuten, Vainamoinen, and Ilmarinen's table companions had found excuses to leave the Hall during the course of the feast, particularly during and immediately after the strawberry tartlet incident. Probably to go laugh themselves silly someplace where the insult wouldn't result in mayhem from the three main actors in the impromptu dinner farce.

Ashura had wanted to absent himself to go laugh, too. Every time he had caught even a tiny glimpse of Fai, he had been forced to muffle snickers, and he rather wished he had thought of the prank himself. Not that he would have done it. Oh, no, not him.

Well, maybe when he was younger...

Maintaining dignity, he led Fai through the castle to his office, where they could get some distance from the court and have decent privacy. Still morose and scuffing his feet, Fai followed him inside. The child stood before the great desk with his head hanging, the picture of contrition.

Ashura closed the door and guffawed, not hiding his amusement at all. Fai's head shot up. He looked surprised.

Ashura did not seat himself behind his desk. He instead leaned against it casually, folded his arms across his chest, and shook his head, smiling. Fai relaxed.

"So," Ashura said, "you enjoy strawberry tartlets."

Fai's brows knitted in confusion. However, he confirmed, "I really like them."

"Quite a bit, it seems, and not just to eat."

Fai clasped his hands together and shifted his weight from one foot to another.

Ashura took pity on him and stopped the teasing. He grinned. "Fai, that was a most excellent prank on Vainamoinen and Ilmarinen, but I would prefer you do not torment them further."

Fai's mouth hung open. "You're not mad?"

"Maybe a little."

But he wasn't, not really. Honestly, how could he be angry? For so long he had feared that Fai might never experience the joys of a normal childhood. Games and mischief were every child's right, yet Fai always seemed so studious, so serious, often quiet and melancholy, never smiling or laughing. Ashura had even worried on occasion that the child might not possess a sense of humor.

How dreadful if Fai were to grow up as humorless as Ukko!

"That reminds me..." Ashura murmured to himself. He needed to warn Fai against making trouble during Ukko's visit.

"Reminds you of what?" asked Fai.

Ashura stared into those bright blue eyes, so guileless and open. So artless. So obviously trustworthy.

So very good at disguising their owner's guilt.

He guffawed again, recalling that the scamp was the source of some very public of shenanigans during the festival. "Don't give me that look, Fai. I know what's been going on. You've been quite busy lately."

Fai dropped his gaze.

Ashura's heart dropped right with it. He knew he should reprimand Fai. He suspected Fai was playing him, but he also couldn't help worrying that Fai might fall back into the depression that so often plagued him. Ashura struggled with himself, and caved. As usual, he couldn't decide if he won or lost the game.

In the end, it didn't really matter, did it? He hadn't planned to scold Fai, but merely to give him a warning.

"Fai, I have enjoyed watching your antics." He had, even though he had had to repair most of the consequences personally. The town's ice sculpture contest, Sybilla's temper at her children's cooking lessons, Ukko's rage at Tancred... Ashura had fixed it all, without implicating Fai or imposing any discipline on him. Only the tartlet prank had not required his personal intervention.

But how wonderful was the revelation that Fai could actually have fun. More, that he could instigate it. Ashura would not ruin that for the world.

"However," he went on, "I doubt Vainamoinen and Ilmarinen would be very understanding were they to learn the truth of how strawberry tartlets came to be served."

"It was just a dessert," Fai muttered. "There were lots of others."

Ashura's lips twitched. "Indeed."

"And it wasn't just me."

"I know Mielu and Virender were also involved. However, they could not have known of Vainamoinen and Ilmarinen's...dispute. They were not in the Southlands when it came to light. You were."

Fai didn't look up, but he nodded.

Ashura took a deep breath. "Fai, I know you have been enjoying yourself during this festival, and I do not want to put a damper on your fun. You are my bright light in this winter's gloom. It makes me very happy to see you happy."

Any other child might have smiled. Fai's face stayed sober. He only asked, "But?"

Fai had already detected that a condition was coming. Such a bright child, his Fai. Ashura gloated at his son's intelligence.

"Yes, there is a 'but,'" Ashura confirmed. "Fai, you must behave tomorrow. There shall be no pranks, no mischief. You are to be on your best behavior for King Ukko's visit."

Fai's eyes lit with understanding. "Oh, King Ukko. He seems so..." He stopped, struggling to say what he meant without being rude.

"King Ukko has no sense of humor," Ashura said bluntly. "He never has. You don't want to cause Tancred more trouble, do you?"

"More trouble? I didn't—"

"Don't even try," Ashura cautioned, and Fai subsided from his protests. "I know where Tancred got the idea to visit the princess in secret."

"But he seemed so frustrated that he had never even met her! He felt much better after I spoke to him," Fai said with amusing self-importance.

"Yes, I'm sure he did. Unfortunately, Tancred was not as circumspect as he should have been. Now we must repair matters and entertain Ukko, his queen, his daughter, and a few of his councilors tomorrow. This means we must all be on our best behavior. Especially you."

"Me?" Fai was the picture of confusion. "Not Tancred?"

Ashura snorted, because Tancred would never have caused such trouble if not for Fai. "All of us. Ukko must see that we are not ordinarily scoundrels and rapscallions. Tancred knows how to behave in public. I know you do, too, even if you do sometimes find it a chore." Fai looked about to protest again, and Ashura held up a hand to stop him. "You are a D-titled wizard, my Royal Wizard, and a noble prince. As such, you are to stand with me along with my most important officials, unless that is too much for you?"

Fai had been looking quite pleased until that last caveat. Indignantly, he said, "Of course not! I'm—" He stopped and covered his mouth with his hands.

"Yes?" Ashura prompted.

Fai composed himself and offered a very formal bow. "I thank you for the honor, Your Majesty. I will not disappoint you."

"How splendid a courtier you are." Ashura laughed. "Just remember, no pranks tomorrow."

"I promise," Fai said earnestly.

"And if there are any in work that have not yet come to fruition, cancel them."

Fai nodded so solemnly that Ashura laughed again.

He held out a hand. "Very well, since we are agreed that you shall behave as a model prince tomorrow, let us go back to the Hall."

 


	32. Chapter 32

Kendappa and Sybilla did not want a bunch of hung-over courtiers to greet King Ukko on the morrow, and so the evening entertainments were restricted to some rather sedate musical performances. The wine was watered, the flow of all intoxicating beverages reduced. The sideboards held far fewer treats than normal, even for a non-festival evening. For a festival, they seemed almost empty.

Ashura recognized the lack of diversion as a blatant hint that the court should retire early and be well rested in the morning. He did his part, and withdrew from the subdued merriment well before his usual hour. Many, he knew, would follow his example.

Of course, he had forgotten that he would not be sleeping in his own bed.

After being gently reminded of that fact by the horde of servants who were still making his quarters more perfect for Ukko's non-occupancy, Ashura quietly slipped into Fai's chambers.

Fai had gone to bed several hours earlier, and should be asleep. The main room held dim lights and a few servants to help Ashura prepare for bed, which in this case was the cot by the fireplace. It was a comfortable cot, with a thick mattress, soft linens, luxurious furs and blankets, and nice, plump pillows—but it was still a cot. Ashura sighed and made ready. Then he dismissed the servants, and, when they had departed, sat down in his favorite cushioned chair. He smiled. Fai had specifically brought this particular chair from Ashura's quarters.

He whispered words of power and drew out the glyphs for a spell he had prepared during a quiet time earlier, when he'd still remembered he'd be sharing quarters with Fai. He tossed the handful of magic into the air above his head, where it spread out into a silvery veil dotted with shining pinpoints of light. It dropped over him and clung like a gossamer web. When it had completely encased him, it vanished from sight.

There. The small shield should filter the worst of his psychic turmoil from Fai, should he be troubled with any unfortunate dreams.

Light from a dim magelight glowed beneath the bedroom's closed door. The door opened, and Fai staggered out, rubbing his eyes. "Um, you're finally here," Fai said drowsily.

"And you should still be asleep," Ashura told him. A needle of guilt pricked him. He wondered if his magical casting, however small, had interfered with Fai's rest. "I'm sorry I disturbed you. Go back to bed, Fai."

"I didn't hear you. You were too quiet," Fai said. "I only knew you'd gotten here because the servants were talking after you came in. You should have let me know."

"You've been awake since I got here?"

"I tried to wait up for you, but I fell asleep. It's a good thing the servants made some noise and woke me up." Fai yawned. "And then I sensed you were working some little spell, so I waited until you were done."

Ashura hadn't thought he or the servants had been loud enough to be heard through Fai's bedroom door. Fai must have been sleeping very lightly in anticipation of his arrival. "Thank you for waiting for me."

Fai yawned again and sat down on the cot across from him. "You're not letting me be a very good host," he accused.

"I don't want to inconvenience you," Ashura explained. "This arrangement was very sudden."

"I remember, back when I first came to Luval," Fai said, "you gave me your bed and slept on a cot like this one for two weeks." He patted the luxuriously appointed cot. "It was very nice of you. Why won't you let me do the same for you? Why wouldn't you take my bed?"

"I will never, ever take anything from you without a very good reason," Ashura said, startled. He never wanted Fai to fear having possessions taken away, but perhaps he had gone too far. He knew Fai was acting as a generous host, but he hadn't realized how deeply those feelings ran in the boy, nor how much Fai wanted to reciprocate a gesture from two years past.

Other nobles always gave up their chambers for Ashura when he visited, and Ashura always accepted without any concern for their comfort or convenience. Fai had seen and absorbed those acts of courtesy and Ashura's typical response. Had he stolen from Fai something more important than a bed? Ashura had been thinking as a parent, but perhaps he should instead have been thinking like a king. Had he denied Fai the honor and pleasure of hosting his liege lord in good style for a night?

"Fai, I'm sorry. I didn't understand," said Ashura. "I only just realized that I have insulted you by refusing your generosity. You are my child and I didn't want you to have an uncomfortable night. It didn't feel right to me to take my child's bed, that's all."

Fai chewed his lower lip. "You're forgiven," he said loftily, then spoiled the effect by yawning so widely his jaw cracked.

"Looks like it's time for you to go back to bed."

"Oh, not just yet."

"Now." Ashura stood up.

"Can't we talk for just a little longer," Fai wheedled. "This is so nice."

Ashura was quite accustomed to Fai's charming, beguiling ways, and was not swayed by the adorable act. "We can talk when you are back in bed, Fai. I'm tired, too, and would also like to get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day."

Fai heaved out a huffy breath, but conceded defeat and walked with Ashura to the bedchamber, dragging his heels the entire way. Just before they reached the door, he asked, "Why are you making everyone get married all at once?"

Ashura stopped dead. He stared down at Fai, rather stupidly. "I'm not making everyone get married."

Fai said, "You're making Lady Kendappa, Tancred, and even Lord Syed all get married."

Oh, dear. Would Fai understand all the politics involved? Probably not. "Fai, get into bed and I'll try to explain."

Fai went into his bedroom and crawled back into his canopied bed. Ashura sat next to him and tucked him in, thinking that Fai had been right, and this little private time was quite nice. Too bad Fai wanted answers to a very difficult, adult question.

"Fai, I've explained to you before that royal marriages are about politics, international alliances, land, and wealth. That's all that's going on. It's just kingdom business."

Fai sat up, undoing Ashura's careful manipulation of the bedclothes. "Lady Kendappa isn't happy."

"No, she's had her own way for far too long," Ashura admitted. "She is set in her ways now. However, she is a royal princess, and as such it is her duty to marry for her country's advantage." Maybe someday Fai would understand and even appreciate Ashura's real reasons for marrying Kendappa out of Seresu. "This offer from King Jarilo of Thule is most advantageous. My council and I would be fools to turn it down."

Fai picked at his thick, cozy blankets and furs. "Tancred's wife is coming to live here, right? He won't be going to Lintukoto, like Lady Kendappa is going to Thule?"

"Yes, he is my heir, and so must remain in our country. The Royal Lady Kyllikki is not her father's heiress, and so she will spend the rest of her life here, in Seresu.

Never mind that the rest of her life would be unnaturally short, as would Tancred's. When it came to Tancred's future, Ashura's hands were tied. As far as anyone knew, Tancred would be the next King of Seresu. Ashura could not save his eldest nephew by marrying him out of the country.

Why did Fai have to ask questions about such difficult subjects? Especially subjects so entwined with Seresu's future?

"Lord Syed isn't royal," Fai pointed out, "but you've arranged a marriage for him, too."

"Ah, but I ennobled him when I made him a D-titled wizard and court wizard," Ashura said, relieved the conversation had moved on from Kendappa and Tancred. "Noble marriages are also about alliances, politics, land, and wealth. Usually just on a smaller scale than royal marriages. In this case, I wanted to reward Syed. His future wife is well-endowed with land, and very wealthy."

Fai looked disappointed. "That's all it is? A reward? But he seemed happy about it. Is he just after the land?"

In this Ashura could reassure Fai with a whole heart. "He is happy, and so is his betrothed. I did not consider politics in this marriage. I asked Kendappa to sound out the unmarried court ladies and determine if any looked upon Syed with interest. It worked out well that he and his new betrothed were drawn to one another, and that there are no political reasons against the match."

"When are they going to get married?"

"When they please," Ashura answered simply, "but probably in the next few months."

"And what about Lady Kendappa, and Tancred and Kyllikki?"

"Those dates will be determined by politics, I'm afraid."

Fai nodded and settled down against his pillows. He yawned again, hugely, and his eyes were droopy. Ashura tucked the blankets up to his chin and rose.

"What about Virender and Mielu?" Fai asked suddenly. "What about me?"

"Someday Virender and Mielu will also be constrained to marry, just like Kendappa and Tancred. As for you, I've promised you before that I will consult with you prior to arranging any marriage." He smiled. "I expect there will be many flattering and advantageous offers for you in a few years, but I will not require you to marry if you do not wish it."

"Not even for politics?"

"Not even then. I swear." He hoped Fai never wished to marry. He hoped Fai never fell in love, real love, with anyone in Seresu, anyone in the entire world.

It would be too devastating.

"Is it because I'm not your real son?"

Ashura drew in his breath, knowing he should have expected that question. Talk about devastating. But Fai didn't look distressed, only curious. Ashura answered quietly, "As far as I am concerned, you are my real son, in all ways but blood. A great many people also believe you are my real son, even by blood, as you know from the gossip that crops up from time to time. But in any case, you are not in line for Seresu's throne, so the council will not demand I use you for alliances."

That wasn't strictly true, though. Fai was Ashura's ward and dearly beloved child, as well as a titled and powerful wizard and nobleman. When Fai matured, he would be among the wealthiest and most influential men in Seresu, and would, indeed, make an excellent marriage prize and political player. Had circumstances been different—normal—he would certainly have been expected to marry for political reasons. Even now, Ashura could easily secure a royal princess for him. But Fai was probably still too young to realize his own political worth.

Ashura bent and kissed Fai's forehead. "Now, close your eyes and go to sleep. It will be a big day tomorrow. We must both be at our best."

Fai nodded and, with a gesture, put out his magelight. "Good night."

"Good night, Fai." Ashura pulled the bed curtains closed and left Fai's bedchamber, quietly shutting the door after him.

 


	33. Chapter 33

A heavy snow and wind storm moved in during the night. Its furious winds abated in early morning, but thick clouds obscured the sky, and fat snowflakes twirled in the air.

In the protection of Luval Castle, the general excitement was not dampened by the blustery elements. Kendappa had planned well by focusing on indoor entertainments for the Lintukotoan visit. She had predicted untrustworthy weather, and deep winter had proven her correct.

King Ukko's arrival near noon was well choreographed, and went forth flawlessly. With a swirl of glittering magic, the Lintukotoan royal party materialized in a prearranged antechamber. From there, they proceeded with dignity through the massive double-door entrance into the Great Hall. Musicians played a fanfare as they entered. Servants released flurries of confetti from balconies overhead, mimicking the falling snow outdoors. Resplendent in fine raiment and jewels, King Ukko Ylijumala and Queen Rana Niejta nodded gracious acknowledgement to the noble crowd that greeted them. Behind them a superior-looking wizard escorted Princess Kyllikki, and then came three important councilors and two more wizards. Ukko's guards and his most indispensable servants remained without, where they would wait until called.

Flanked by Kendappa, Sybilla, and Tancred, Ashura stepped down from the dais and came forward to greet their guests personally. "My brother," he said, warmly clasping King Ukko's hand. "Welcome to Luval. I hope you find your visit enjoyable."

"Such a wonderful welcome," said Ukko. He wore red silk velvet, enormous sapphires, enough gold to outshine the sun, and a priceless cloak of cloth-of-gold lined and trimmed with white ermine fur.

Ashura had cause to thank Kendappa for her preparations, her insistence on perfection and opulence in every detail, and even her nagging. Ukko had come to impress. Kendappa had been correct yet again.

Ukko said, "I'm sure you remember my queen? I know it has been many years since you two last met."

"How could I ever forget such ethereal beauty?" Ashura said. He performed a courtly bow and kissed Queen Rana's hand. "Your Majesty."

Queen Rana Niejta was even blonder than her husband, and just as blue-eyed. Her red gown of finest silk sparkled with golden embroidery and innumerable tiny diamonds. In contrast to the modern fashion of her gown, she wore her pale gold hair in an older style. A braid had been coiled over each ear to frame her fine-boned features, and the rest of her locks tumbled freely down her back. The coiled braids were covered by round, filigreed meshes of stiff gold wire and dangling jewels. These were held in place by a low, golden coronet, studded with magnificent rubies. Her elaborate headdress glittered as she dipped a graceful curtsey to Ashura. "Indeed, I remember you, as well, Your Majesty. You are as charming as ever."

After Ashura introduced Kendappa and Sybilla to Ukko's family, he brought Tancred forward. Sybilla and Kendappa had done him proud. In his heavy, blue and white brocades, his sapphire jewels, and his fine cloak, Tancred was every bit as impressive as the Lintukotoans. A gemmed clasp held his long, black hair at the nape of his neck.

"My nephew, Tancred, Royal Prince of the House of Vanir, and heir to my throne," Ashura said proudly. "Your daughter's betrothed."

Ukko plastered a benign and patently false smile on his face while giving Tancred a warning look. He took Kyllikki by the hand. "My daughter, the radiant Princess Kyllikki."

Kyllikki was tall enough to meet Tancred's eyes. She shared her father's coloring, but her features were as delicately beautiful as her mother's. Pearls and diamonds shimmered on her red and gold gown. She wore her hip-length hair loose, with a gold and sapphire circlet upon her brow. Chains of diamonds hung from her headdress and twinkled like stars in her honey-blonde hair. She smiled shyly and looked at Tancred through her eyelashes.

With no obvious reluctance, Ukko placed his daughter's hand in Tancred's. Tancred bowed gracefully to her, and kissed her fingers. "I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, most royal lady."

"And I, yours, kind sir," she said demurely, curtseying.

What excellent liars they were, Ashura thought. Their court manners and skill at dissembling were impeccable. No one present would ever have guessed that they had met before.

All the onlookers beamed, for everyone loved to see a young, royal couple so well matched. Tancred and Kyllikki certainly made a striking pair, with their contrasting coloring and attractive looks. Ashura overheard some nearby murmurs comparing the youngsters with himself and Luonnotar, and felt a tiny pang of melancholy. Truly, much about this match was similar, right down to the circumstances of their original meeting.

After the introductions, Ashura escorted Ukko's party to the dais, where extra chairs had been placed for the honored guests. Ashura introduced the rest of the children to the Lintukotoan royal family. Fai, he noticed, had paled and was staring at Queen Rana. Something had disturbed him, but Ashura couldn't fathom where the problem might lie. Fai had seen plenty of grandeur during his time at Luval, so Rana's extravagance shouldn't bother him. Perhaps it was the antique style of her headdress? It did look like something Rana's grandmother might have worn. The Lintukotoan royal court favored old-fashioned styles for jewels and ornamentation. Unlike the Seresian practice of resetting important jewels into newer forms, the Lintukotoan habit was to preserve old pieces in a state as close to original as possible.

Still, Queen Rana's old-fashioned headdress should not have caused Fai such shock. Fai caught Ashura looking with worry at him, and quickly averted his gaze. He couldn't help flicking his eyes back to Rana when he thought no one was watching, though.

After both royal families had seated themselves, several of Ashura's physicians and healing mages carried in silver trays of tiny, silver cups. They consulted with the wizards from both Seresu and Lintukoto, and then some of the healers went to the various members of Ukko's retinue. The most senior physician came to the dais and bowed to Ashura, bearing more small cups filled with fragrant liquid. "For the comfort of your honored guests, Your Majesty." He bowed to Ukko, Rana, and Kyllikki, and presented to them his tray of cups. "Please, Your Radiant Majesties, Your Radiant Highness."

"What is this?" Ukko asked. He looked to his own wizards, who nodded to him. He took one of the cups. It looked a mere toy in his large hand.

Ashura explained, "The air this high in the mountains is a little thinner than what you may be accustomed to. Some people feel tired, or even experience headaches or nausea. This is a simple potion made from the Golden Root plant. I believe you call it King's Crown in Lintukoto. Many receive it when they come to Luval. Most people find that it alleviates the unpleasant effects of our altitude." Not all, though. Fai had been dosed regularly with Golden Root potions when he had first arrived at Luval, but his physical condition had been so dilapidated and overtaxed that the poor child had felt ill for days. No one had been certain if Fai's exhaustion, headaches, and illness had stemmed from the altitude or simply his starved, dehydrated, and generally traumatized state. Most likely, Fai's ailments at the time had been an unfortunate combination of all those things.

However, the Lintukotoan party was healthy and, at least in Ukko's case, hearty. Even if the potion didn't help all of them, they should be fine. A slight headache and a little nausea wouldn't kill them.

Ashura added, "Your party did not need it the other day because you didn't stay long enough for symptoms to set in, but today you will spend many hours here, and some of your people may be affected."

Ukko nodded. "Ah, yes, I recall this concoction from the last time I guested here. My stamina is such that I should not need it," he said with conceit, "but I will set a good example for the rest of my entourage." He downed the potion in one gulp. He held the cup out in a dramatic gesture. "Drink, my loyal subjects. 'Tis somewhat bitter, but far better to drink this elixir than suffer a miserable headache."

Kyllikki ducked her head in embarrassment at her father's pompous speech. Tancred said consolingly, "I know just how you feel," with a significant look at Ashura and his mother, Sybilla. Kyllikki giggled, and Tancred laughed with her.

Ashura said, "Queen Rana, your husband is correct. The potion may smell like flowers, but it is best to drink it quickly. My apothecaries should have mixed it well with herbs and sweeteners to mask the Golden Root's flavor, but not all the bitterness can be disguised."

Queen Rana looked dubious, but tipped back the cup and drank in as few swallows as possible. "Thank you for your consideration, Your Majesty."

"It is my pleasure, Queen Rana," Ashura said. He glanced aside, where Taishakuten and some other nobles stood, waiting with sabers in hand. Ashura nodded to them and said to King Ukko, "Now, Your Majesty, some of the finest warriors in my kingdom have prepared a martial demonstration in your honor. I recall that you enjoy performances of expert sword skills."

"Indeed, I do," Ukko said with pleasure.

The courtiers moved to the sidelines, opening up the large, central space. Taishakuten, Matas, and their team of four more elite swordsmen filed into position and bowed to the dais.

Taishakuten first performed a solo piece. The other men stepped away, leaving him alone in the center of the floor. Lord Matas tossed him a second saber. Taishakuten easily caught it and launched into a virtuoso performance of whirling blades and quick, spinning footwork.

"Amazing," Ukko said. "Such speed. Such skill and grace."

"That is Lord Taishakuten of the Southlands," Ashura told him, reflecting that Taishakuten seemed to enjoy being the center of attention as much as Kendappa, maybe even more. He was an impressive showman. In all things. One could consider his harsh treatment of the Arimaspi in Spou a kind of showmanship, as well. The maimings, executions, and torture had all been very public, a lesson to the conquered. Too bad it had not worked and had, instead, created problems for Ashura.

"Ah, the Griffin of the South. There are many stories of his deeds, especially of late." Ukko slid his eyes to Ashura. "I heard about your difficulties in Spou. The attack upon you was especially outrageous."

"Yes, it was. We have strong suspicions that even Davros was involved."

"So I was informed. He is worse than his father. They both have much to answer for." Ukko made a disgusted noise. "I am glad you resolved matters so speedily. That kind of discord is often contagious. It might have spread."

Taishakuten tossed one saber in the air while whipping the other in complex patterns with his left hand. The airborne blade spun so fast it seemed a disk of bright silver. Taishakuten seized the handle as it came down and continued twirling the saber without interrupting its flow of movement. He pivoted, both blades flashing into offensive moves, his long hair swinging and somehow staying out of his way.

Ashura said, "You need not fear that any unrest in my new lands will spill over into your country. I have things well in hand here."

"How excellent. There were some interesting reports on your method of solving those troubles. It was unique, I must say. And how unusual, that you handled matters yourself."

"It worked."

"Indeed, it did." Ukko grinned. "Even my own lands became much quieter when news of it spread to them. The criminal and unruly elements have been subdued, especially since I have strengthened ties with you by betrothing Kyllikki to your nephew. I thank you for that."

Ashura grunted, not particularly pleased to hear of his new, threatening reputation in Lintukoto.

Ukko added, "Rest assured, my brother, that Lintukoto will always stand with Seresu against Arimaspea." He added slyly, "Perhaps Skudra and Davros need a sharp lesson in manners."

"Perhaps."

"Perhaps soon?"

"Perhaps."

"Blood ties are a most excellent thing," Ukko remarked approvingly. "You will soon have a new treaty and family bond with Thule, as well as Lintukoto. How very strategic of you."

Ashura hadn't been planning strategically at all when he'd arranged Kendappa's marriage to the King of Thule, but rather out of desperation. He allowed Ukko to draw his own conclusions. He smiled, thinking that Ukko might prove himself to be quite useful in the matter of Arimaspea. "Skudra and Davros have annoyed us all."

"They have, indeed," Ukko confirmed with a flash of teeth. "We must discuss this matter again at a later date. A party is no place to talk of war."

In Ashura's experience, all manner of politics were discussed during parties, including war, but he nodded agreement anyway. Ukko probably needed to broach the idea with his own nobles and advisors before going any further, and would have to convince them of its value. Arimaspea might annoy the Lintukotoans, but Skudra did not possess the same hatred for Ukko's family that he did for Ashura's, and so did not trouble Lintukoto nearly as much. Ukko's country would not be as bent upon war as Seresu.

Taishakuten threw both blades high above his head. He executed several quick, unarmed offensive techniques with punches and kicks, and caught the rotating sabers on their way down with no break in the rhythm of his own moves or that of the whirring steel. A few more spinning techniques, and he lunged forward, thrusting his blades forward in a finishing gesture. He stopped, holding position.

He remained posed for a few heartbeats and then straightened, twirling his blades dramatically, and ended the routine by bringing the sabers to cross over his chest. He lowered the blades and bowed.

The court erupted into applause. Ukko clapped enthusiastically and cheered aloud. Taishakuten bowed again, and tossed his sabers to an assistant. Matas came out, bearing two of that perennial Seresian favorite: the long, straight staff. He presented one to Taishakuten. They bowed again, then began to demonstrate elaborate fighting techniques. Wood clattered as the men sparred.

Ashura noted, "Lord Taishakuten is as expert with the long staff as he is with blades. Look how he seems to float upon the air as he moves, and how the staff seems a part of him. I have recently engaged him as weapons tutor to my ward, Fai." He leaned back and said smugly, "One day, Fai will be a great wizard, and a great warrior, as well."

Ukko was not so interested in staff fighting, but a wicked glint came into his eyes at mention of Fai. "Ah, yes, your Fai. I am pleased to have finally met him. A charming lad, and so polite and well behaved. If only my own children were so well mannered. I must tell you, it is obvious the tales I heard about his parentage are false. I had wondered about them, especially considering how much you have done to advance him. The D title, at his age. It was a most unusual step."

"Fai deserved the title. He is more powerful than any wizard ever born in this world, and already provides much help to my people." Ashura eyed his former brother by marriage. "The rest is nonsense. I see vicious gossip flies even as far as Lintukoto."

"Of course. Nothing travels faster or farther than gossip, especially gossip about kings. I never gave those stories any credence. I know you would never have betrayed my sister. You were always too proper." Ukko leaned back in his chair. "Though I can understand the need for relief, while she was so heavy with child. In any case, now that I have seen the boy for myself, well..." He laughed. "He looks more like one of my by-blows than yours."

It was true. With his blue eyes and blond hair, Fai could easily be taken for Ukko's son. Ashura said, "Brother, do not repeat that too loudly, lest new stories circulate."

"It would do me no harm."

No, but it might do Fai considerable harm, Ashura thought. Fai was so fragile sometimes, and Ashura didn't know how he would react to such a tale. It would also make Ashura look a fool, to be raising Ukko's bastard. Ukko wouldn't care about those things, though. He would think it a great joke.

Ashura needed to drive that idea out of Ukko's head. "It would cause endless trouble for us all. I have had enough to do with squelching the other rumors. Imagine what the restive elements in your own kingdom would make of such a story."

Ukko scowled.

Ashura said, "And consider your late sister's honor and memory. What would she have thought of this?" He hoped that would be enough to still Ukko's tongue. Ukko was touchy about family honor.

"Luonnotar would not be pleased with me for foisting one of my bastards upon her husband, nor teasing you about the possibility," Ukko acknowledged. "It was only a jest, brother. I see now it lacked humor."

They went silent, watching the staff demonstration. Ashura gestured, and a servant came forward bearing goblets and a pitcher of wine. Ukko accepted a cup and drank deeply.

Taishakuten really was extraordinarily skilled with the weapon, Ashura thought, sipping from his goblet, and tireless as well. He hoped Fai could become as adept one day. His eyes went to Fai. Fai enjoyed working with the long staff very much. His interest, however, seemed divided between the show and Queen Rana. Ashura really wanted to know why Fai was so obsessed with the Lintukotoan queen. He would need to speak with Fai later.

Ashura heard laughing from Ukko's left, and saw Tancred and Kyllikki chattering gaily. How fortunate that the two youngsters got along. He hoped they continued to enjoy each other's company, even after they were married. They were so young, and many things might change over the years of their lives. Hearts and eyes that seemed fixed when young could wander in maturity, as Ukko had just insinuated about Ashura and even himself.

Ukko followed Ashura's gaze, and smiled. "They make a fine couple. The match was inspired. How excellent that our countries' alliance will be strengthened in such a happy way."

Ashura said, "Indeed, but I do worry about their youth."

"Oh?"

"I would prefer that we hold off on their marriage until Tancred is eighteen years of age. It will allow them both time to mature. Naturally, the betrothal shall remain legally binding, and so the slight delay should not affect any of its terms."

"My daughter will be an old maid by then!" Ukko protested.

"Your daughter is only a year older than Tancred, and a magician besides. She will hardly be in her dotage."

"Girls of her rank and importance are always married young." Ukko twisted his lips in displeasure. "And boys not much older."

"That is an old-fashioned notion. Waiting a few extra years will be good for Kyllikki, too. There will be much pressure on them when they marry, and a little maturity will help. We can write the contract to account for any contingencies, to guarantee your daughter's rights, and to solidify the relations between our two countries. As I said, everything will be legally binding unless one of us has a valid reason to break the agreement. It will be just as though they had married."

"You have become eccentric over the years," Ukko accused.

Ashura couldn't argue that. "Yes."

"I am sorry to see it," was Ukko's disagreeable response.

"There can be no fault in reexamining old customs that may not suit current circumstances."

"Very well, but we will wait for only one year. Your nephew will be seventeen then."

"Sixteen. He is only fifteen now."

"Both are already of legal age. Sixteen will be old enough. My grandfather was barely sixteen when he took the throne, and he led armies successfully."

Ashura did not point out that Ukko's grandfather had been surrounded by councilors and war leaders who were fully mature and had many years of experience. That king of old, no matter how worthy, had had excellent advice and guidance, and had not been allowed to make the typical, hotheaded mistakes of youth.

Ashura also did not mention that he, himself, had been twenty years of age when he had married Luonnotar. Ashura's aim had been to secure a little more time for Tancred to be a boy, a little more time before he had to take on the role of a man in all ways. A little more time to know his own heart and mind. A year would have to be enough.

"Very well," he said. "We can have our advisors and legal counsel communicate and handle the details. A large, royal wedding is a complex undertaking, so I am sure my people will appreciate the extra time." Naturally, since Tancred was heir to Seresu's throne, the wedding would take place in Seresu.

Ukko agreed.

The warriors finished their staff choreography. Taishakuten and Matas exchanged their staves for straight swords. The rest of the swordsmen came out onto the floor, also carrying straight swords. They took up defensive positions facing each other, saluted with their swords, and began a fighting demonstration that was both dance and battle.


	34. Chapter 34

After the weapons demonstration, the court held a feast, a grand affair that went on for hours. The dishes presented were varied and plentiful. In between courses, entertainers of all types performed: mummers, jugglers, musicians, and even a small company of acrobats.

Ukko and his party expressed appreciation at each new delight. They were particularly enthusiastic when presented with some Lintukotoan delicacies, such as whitefish roe on light, thin pancakes, winter mushrooms fried with onions, and sweetened bilberry sauce, thickened into a soft jelly and smothered with heavy cream.

"The ingredients come from Lintukoto," Kendappa told them. "Sybilla and I brought them over especially for your visit."

"You are quite masterful at management, to arrange these delightful victuals on such short notice," Ukko complimented her.

"Indeed," Ashura agreed, "Kendappa and Sybilla are the greatest hostesses in my country."

Kendappa dimpled at him, and Sybilla looked pleased to receive such praise from both kings.

After the feast concluded, the court withdrew to the sidelines to allow the servants to break down the tables and clear away the mess. Ashura and Kendappa escorted their guests to the great hearth on one wall. It was taller than any man, and wide enough to accommodate an entire tree's worth of firewood.

Kendappa leaned in close to him. "Aren't you glad we went to so much extra trouble with our preparations now?" she murmured in his ear. "See how impressively Ukko's party is dressed, and the importance of the wizards and officials he brought with him. They expected to be feted, and so they are."

Ashura grunted, because he did not enjoy listening to Kendappa crow at him. "Don't you ever get tired of being right?"

"Never." She smiled brilliantly.

With all the magical communications flying between the royal courts of Seresu and Lintukoto over the past two days, Ukko could not have failed to learn that the Seresians were orchestrating an elaborate welcome for him. He would have prepared accordingly. Kendappa's prophecy was undoubtedly self-fulfilling, Ashura thought cynically, but he let her have her little victory.

The two royal families passed some time with pleasantries. Rana discussed the feast with Kendappa and Sybilla. Tancred and Kyllikki's soft talk was interspersed with giggles. Ashura beckoned Vainamoinen over so he and Ukko could describe their new agreement with regards to the royal marriage concerning Tancred's age. Vainamoinen, to his credit, did not so much as twitch a single eyelid at the news that the terms of the contract were to be modified yet again. He must be numb by now, Ashura thought, watching Vainamoinen retreat to consult with his peers. Ukko also moved away, going to speak with his own councilors. Ashura presumed it was about the same topic.

Virender came over and quietly got Ashura's attention. "Your Majesty," he said formally, looking nervous.

"Yes, Virender?"

"Um, it's about Fai."

"What about him?" Ashura looked around the Great Hall. Fai was nowhere to be seen. "Where is he?"

"I don't know," Virender said. "That's the problem. He just wandered off, and neither Mielu nor I can find him."

Ashura cast his mind back. He had been preoccupied with Ukko and the Lintukotoan royal party all day, and had merely been grateful that the children had behaved with propriety. Aside from his peculiar fascination with Queen Rana, Fai had been the perfect image of a young princeling.

Ashura had been pleased and relieved that Fai had behaved so well, but now he worried about Fai's mood. He couldn't recall the last time he'd seen Fai. The child must have vanished immediately after the feast. Otherwise, his absence would have been noted and brought to Ashura's attention sooner. The servants weren't supposed to let the royal children out of their sight during festivals, but they weren't always as observant as they should have been. The children's expedition to Luval Town at the beginning of the festival testified to that. Fai could be quick and discreet when the mood took him.

"Perhaps he merely has some personal matters to take care of," Ashura speculated. Everyone had come and gone at times for small, routine indispositions. The feast had been very long, with a great many dishes both savory and sweet, and a variety of beverages had flowed without restraint. "I am certain he will return soon."

"Maybe," Virender said, "But he was acting strange during the feast, too."

"How so?"

"He was very quiet. He hardly talked at all, and he hardly ate anything. He only picked at his food."

That was strange. While Fai could be quiet when in one of his somber moods, he was usually a hearty eater. The fact that even Virender the heedless was worried made Fai's disappearance especially concerning. Ashura resolved to keep an eye out for Fai. There was no reason for Fai to be so upset that he couldn't eat, especially not at such a festive occasion. "I will talk with him after he returns, and find out what is wrong," Ashura promised his young nephew. "Whatever the problem is, we will make it right."

Virender nodded and returned to his sister and mother, leaving Ashura standing alone by the hearth. He considered calling on his guards to search for Fai. He didn't want to raise an alarm during Ukko's visit, but Fai's absence was worrisome. He surveyed the room several times, but Fai did not reappear.

The servants finished their cleaning, and moved on to setting up for the evening play. Ashura hoped the comedy by Lumi Pahalaitar turned out to be worth all the inconvenience it had brought him. He rather wished he had never invited Ukko, and suspected that Sybilla, Kendappa, Vainamoinen, and his other court officials all felt the same.

A small commotion erupted by the main entrance. A manservant jogged in and went straight to Vainamoinen. Vainamoinen, in turn, nodded at what the servant had to say, and immediately walked in Ashura's direction.

The grim look on his face proclaimed the urgency of the matter. Ashura went toward him, meeting him halfway in the center of the Great Hall. Servants paused in their work and stepped aside, bowing and waiting for their masters to move out of the way.

"Majesty," Vainamoinen said, "I have received word of an avalanche in the mountains some fifteen miles from here. The village of Nadenda was completely destroyed."

Ashura's whole world stopped.

"Destroyed?" he repeated dumbly, unable to absorb what he had just heard. Powdery ice clouds blinded him, and monstrous roaring deafened his ears. Visions of white death filled the world, loomed over his head, threatened to bury and smother him. White death, faced by a young, blond wizard, in a dream of the future. The future. The present? "A-an avalanche, you say?"

Avalanche.

Fai.

Fai was missing from court.

Vainamoinen was saying something about sending help to look for survivors. Something about mages, and military troops, and healers. Food and warm clothing and blankets and other supplies. It was all meaningless, mere buzzing in Ashura's ears, barely sensed over the deafening thunder in his head.

His dream, his dream, his dream of an avalanche, of Fai facing an avalanche alone.

Was it coming true? After all this time, was it finally coming true?

He looked about wildly. "Where's Fai?"

"Majesty?" Vainamoinen stared at him in bewilderment.

"Fai! Where is Fai?" Ashura gripped his liegeman's shoulders and shook him. "Where is he?"

"I'm sure Fai is somewhere nearby—"

"Fai wanders! You know he teleports all over the country!" Ashura screamed at him. "He might be—"

Vainamoinen clamped a hand at the back of Ashura's neck to hold him still. "Ashura, listen to me! Fai would not have run off on a whim during a royal feast! Think, Ashura! Think."

"He might have... Virender just told me he'd been acting strangely, and I saw for myself that something had disturbed him..." Ashura was frantic now. Why couldn't Vainamoinen understand? "I never should have let him out of my sight! We must find him—"

"Have you run mad, Ashura?" Ukko's voice boomed. "What is this hysteria?"

"This is an internal matter, Your Majesty," Vainamoinen said smoothly to the Lintukotoan king. "There has been an avalanche. It is a common hazard in the mountains. Unfortunately, a village was buried by it."

They were attracting a crowd. Both royal families had gathered round, along with some of the higher-ranked—and braver—courtiers. Every mouth in the Great Hall had stilled, every ear cocked to overhear the details about what had disturbed their king. Vainamoinen spotted Suhail D Bhagat and beckoned him closer. They pulled Ashura away so they could speak in private.

"Majesty, you must calm down," Vainamoinen said intently. "You must behave better, with Ukko present."

"Ukko can go—"

"There may be survivors!" Vainamoinen interrupted, stopping Ashura from saying something unforgiveable in public. "We must send help."

Ashura scrubbed both hands over his face. "Yes, yes," he stammered. "Send help, whatever they need. Anything."

Vainamoinen frowned and exchanged a worried glance with Suhail. He quickly shifted his eyes to Ashura then back to the chief of the court wizards. Suhail nodded in understanding and reassurance.

Ashura didn't care what they thought. Fai. Fai and the avalanche. Ashura shook at the very idea. He had to find Fai!

"I will take care of everything, Your Majesty," Vainamoinen said with exaggerated calm. With another significant look at Suhail, he strode off, calling for servants, a number of nobles including Taishakuten and Ilmarinen, and the captains of the castle guard.

"I should go," Ashura said, shivering. "Fai might be there. He might be—"

"Ashura, calm down! This is unbecoming!" Suhail's gray beard waggled as he scolded Ashura in his most superior and condescending tone, just as he had when he had been Ashura's tutor in magic so many years past. "Do you want your guests to think you incompetent and easily overwrought? What is wrong with you?"

"Fai is missing!"

"Then find him!" Suhail snapped. "After Fai, you are the most powerful magician in this world. You do not need to abandon your responsibilities here to locate your errant child!"

Shocked, Ashura stopped and stared him. Suhail could not have jolted him better had he doused his king with a bucket of ice water.

Of course! It was so obvious. Magic was the answer. Magic was always the best answer.

Especially with Fai.

Ashura rubbed his upper arms, getting his physical reactions under control. He tried to think rationally.

He had sensed nothing magical from Fai since the child had vanished. He had always expected to _know_ when Fai faced that preordained avalanche. He often felt Fai's exercise of magic. Most especially Fai's large castings. They frequently slammed into him, no matter Fai's location. Sometimes they hurt. Sometimes they threatened to swallow him whole.

He should have felt something, _something_ , had Fai used enormous amounts of magic in an attempt to stop a raging avalanche.

"Yes," he murmured. "Yes. I will find him. I will."

Suhail stepped back, watching him with wary eyes, ready to intervene should Ashura again fall to panic.

"I will find him," Ashura repeated. He would not panic again. He would not. Fai needed him to be calm, to be capable. To be first a wizard, then a king, and only then, at the last, a father. He would not confuse his priorities again.

A wizard to find Fai, a king to command aid for Fai, and then a father, to deal with any physical or emotional injury Fai might have suffered.

Ashura marshaled his powers and centered himself. He inhaled deeply, three times. In, out. In, out. In, out. Focused, he used his right index finger to draw out the mystical script for a seek spell. He formed each symbol in midair with reasoned, unemotional precision, and imbued them with power and intent. So much intent, intent to locate Fai; power, enough to find Fai, but not too much, not too much. Too much power could harm the object of an active seek spell—in this case, Fai—so Ashura kept his power under ruthless control.

The glyphs blazed with light; they could go anywhere, anywhere at all. They strained forward, demanding release, pushing, pushing out, against his restraint...

He set them free.

The spell-runes vanished from sight. Ashura closed his eyes, letting the spell drag his awareness to Fai.

There.

There?

Ashura blinked his eyes open, surprised. "Of course," he whispered. "I should have known."

"Majesty?" Suhail asked cautiously.

"I should have known," Ashura repeated, stronger this time.

"Where is he, Your Majesty?"

Ashura uttered a tiny, unamused laugh. "Fai is in the castle shrine."

 


	35. Chapter 35

Ashura stood before the set of giant, double doors that gave entry into the venerable shrine deep beneath Luval Castle.

It embodied Seresu, the shrine. Ancient beyond knowing, imposing, the cavern beyond those immense doors was deep as the earth and lofty as the sky. Carved from the very heart of Luval Mountain, the shrine contained enormous magic, the greatest concentration of natural magic in all the world. The magic of the shrine kept the mountain aloft and as stable as though it were grounded in solid bedrock.

It was the perfect place for any magician to go to ground. The vast, ambient magic contained in the shrine could obscure any human power within its own might. Little wonder Ashura had not been able to sense Fai within the castle without using a deliberate, targeted spell of finding. The shrine's magic, combined with Ashura's own distress and distraction, had disguised Fai's magic and cloaked his whereabouts, keeping him secreted within the depths of the mountain.

Now that Ashura had conquered his own fear, now that he knew Fai's location, he understood Suhail's wisdom in insisting he find Fai himself. Suhail or another court wizard could have easily cast the spell, but the action had calmed Ashura and grounded him. Now, standing outside the doors, he could sense a little of Fai's power, and an undercurrent of unhappiness that twined with the forces contained in Luval Castle's shrine.

Ashura worried for Fai. The grief leaching into his awareness told him much of Fai's emotional state. He hated to disturb Fai, but he couldn't leave him to...to mourn...

Yes, the sadness of the magic, it told of anguish, of mourning. Why was Fai mourning?

He gestured with both arms, sweeping his hands apart and to his sides. Magic breathed, announcing his presence to the shrine, and with his magical will he opened the massive doors. They swung in, slowly, ponderously, and silently.

Soft light glowed within the shrine, magical light that radiated out from deep within its recesses. Ghostly shadows played upon the forest of smooth columns that supported the arched and vaulted stone ceiling. They rippled as he entered, silent as any wraith. The shrine's magic seemed to welcome him. The shrine always felt warm to him, in a mystical, inexplicable way. He always felt as though it were enfolding him in its esoteric energy, as though it tempered its touch whenever he came.

Once, in a moment of whimsy, Fai had told him that the shrine loved him. That its magic danced with Ashura's, whenever he chanced to cast a spell in that most hallowed of places. Ashura wondered about that, but didn't disbelieve his son. Fai could see the shrine's magic, something no other magician in Seresu could do. And Ashura was consecrated to the shrine as part of his obligations as King of Seresu. Perhaps Fai was right, and there was a real connection.

Ashura had learned two years ago that he had many mystical connections to the native magic of Seresu.

Now he accepted the shrine's welcome, but did not let it distract him. He made his way to the shrine's very center, where the sacred pool lay. An impossible reservoir of water, its source a mystery that no one dared explore. No natural, mundane spring could exist in the floating mountain. There was no viable source for it. Water, like other provisions, was obtained by means both magical and mundane from sources beyond the castle.

The pool always seemed endless, bottomless. Yet that, too, was an impossibility within Luval Mountain. And the water was always pure, so pure. Pure physically, and even purer mystically.

Within that pool of pure, clear water lay Fai's dead brother, eternally resting in a crystal coffin, hands clasped about a large, fluorite egg. Magic kept the body from degrading: spells of stasis fed and reinforced by the strange magic of that egg, a disturbing power no other mage in Seresu could bear. The heart of that power, Ashura believed, was entwined with Fai's fate, a harbinger of the future.

Ashura had placed the dead twin in the coffin in the pool, set the stasis spells, and gifted Fai and his brother with the promise and the doom of that unsettling fluorite egg. At times Ashura had gazed into the pool, upon Fai's twin, and pondered the twisted whims of fate and despair that had brought the two children to Seresu. Thanks to the magic of the stasis spells, the egg, and the purity of the water, Fai's twin never changed in death. He always looked as though he were only sleeping.

Fai paid regular visits to his deceased brother, and on occasion he took refuge in the shrine when he was upset.

I should have known, Ashura thought.

As Ashura approached, the light grew brighter, and he heard the soft sounds of a child crying. He stopped by a nearby pillar.

Fai leaned over the edge of the pool, staring down into its watery depths. Three balls of magelight hovered high above him, and water reflected their light as an unearthly blue glow. Tears glistened on Fai's cheeks.

"I'm sorry," he wept softly. "I'm sorry. I forgot. I forgot everything. I shouldn't have forgotten. I shouldn't... How could I?" He wiped his nose, and fresh tears came. "But how could I not—?" His slender frame shuddered and heaved. "I couldn't help it. I couldn't!"

He collapsed into a heap and cried as though his very heart had been cut from his chest.

Ashura's own heart wrenched. The words Fai uttered had a well-worn feel, as though Fai had been chanting the same phrases over and over and over.

He could not leave Fai to grieve all alone. "Fai—" he breathed, and though his voice was very soft, it echoed throughout the cavernous chamber as the pealing of a bell.

With a gasp, Fai jumped up and stared at him like a startled deer.

"Fai," Ashura repeated, holding out one hand. He stepped forward. "Fai, what's wrong?"

"Oh, no," Fai whispered. He wrapped his arms tightly about his middle. "Nononononono..."

Ashura felt a stab of grim, despairing humor. Somehow, he had managed to surprise Fai. The seek spell had borne Ashura's unique esoteric signature; it should have announced Ashura's intent to Fai right away. Magic called to magic. Fai should have sensed Ashura as soon as that spell had found its target. And Fai always knew Ashura's magic. Ashura couldn't hide from Fai anywhere, not even in the embrace of the shrine's eldritch powers. Yet it seemed Fai hadn't been aware that Ashura had come.

Fai had been so lost in his grief that he hadn't noticed any changes in the mystical auras surrounding him. Ashura feared the meaning of sorrow so deep, so all encompassing.

A few swift steps, and he was by Fai's side. He gathered the trembling boy into his arms. "Fai, Fai," he crooned, "It's all right, it'll be fine, Fai, it will..."

And Fai kept chanting, over and over, "No, no, no, no," and sobbing so hard his whole body shook. His legs gave out. Ashura held him closely so he wouldn't fall. Slowly, he knelt onto the floor then sat down cross-legged, settling Fai against him. Ashura kept his arms around his son, rocking and crooning a stream of soothing nonsense.

Instinctively, Fai crept into Ashura's lap, as might a child half his age. Ashura held him tighter, bowing his head over Fai's and rocking back and forth. "Poor child," he murmured as Fai cried against his chest. "It will be all right. Whatever grieves you, I will make it right. Shhhh." He stroked Fai's hair.

How long they stayed like that, sitting and rocking on the floor by the pool's edge, Ashura didn't know. But after a time, Fai's sobs lessened. With a few final hiccups, he lifted his head—but he avoided Ashura's eyes.

"Fai?" Ashura queried gently and very quietly, fearful of triggering another fit of tears with the wrong words. "Fai, what happened? Why—why were you crying? What caused you so much pain?"

Fai sniffled and rested his head against Ashura's shoulder. "I..." He stopped, and sniffed again.

Ashura petted Fai's hair, and asked, "Did someone say something unkind to you?" He couldn't imagine anyone from Lintukoto doing so. They were all decent adults who would not deliberately hurt a child, but perhaps Fai had overheard some of the things Ukko had said to Ashura when they had discussed the old rumors about Fai's parentage. Fai might have taken Ukko's tasteless jest amiss.

Yet, Fai had heard worse, and from Seresians, people he knew. Why should Ukko's words stab his heart so deeply that he had fled to the shrine to weep?

"No, no," Fai said, and paused to swallow. "It was nothing anyone said. Nothing like that."

"You do not have to tell me, Fai, but I wish you would. I will make it better, if I can."

Fai shivered. "You can't. No one can."

Ashura waited. He held Fai, and stroked his hair, and waited for Fai. He would wait for Fai forever, until life ended, and beyond.

Fai drew in a deep, shuddering breath. His muscles tensed, and Ashura suspected that Fai planned to lie to him. No matter what Fai said next, though, Ashura would not gainsay him. They both had desperate secrets that they could never share with one another. To this day, Fai believed that Ashura did not know the truth of the terrible past: his true name, how he had taken his brother's, how he had pledged service to a polluted sorcerer in exchange for the impossible goal of reviving his brother's life. All this, Ashura knew, and more. But Fai believed him ignorant, so Ashura stayed silent.

Ashura had his own secrets, and he would never share them with Fai until the doomed day that fate had decreed. He could not condemn Fai for keeping terrible secrets, not when he himself kept secrets as bad or even worse.

But to his surprise, when Fai finally spoke, his words held the ring of truth.

"It was the queen," Fai said softly.

"Queen Rana?" Ashura asked.

Fai nodded in abject misery. "Yes."

"Did she say something to you?" In Ashura's experience, Queen Rana Niejta was the soul of tact and discretion. Fai could have been a maimed hunchback with gnarled claws for hands and bowed, crooked legs and, in public at least, Queen Rana would have only commented on the beauty of Fai's blue eyes.

"No." Fai swallowed again, trembling ever so slightly. He stammered haltingly, "She... Her hair...and...her headdress. It...the way she wore it...it had those two gold circles on either side of her head..."

Ashura had no idea why Rana's old-fashioned headdress had upset Fai so badly. He shifted, settling Fai more comfortably in his lap. "Fai, I don't understand. It is just an archaic bit of jewelry. The Lintukotoan royal family treasures its heirloom jewels beyond reason. Queen Rana's headdress is called a crispinette," he said, grateful for the first time in his life for the fashion lectures Kendappa had inflicted upon him over the years. "It is so old it looks like something from a history book. What about it could have...?" He had no idea how to phrase his question without upsetting Fai again. He paused to take a deep breath and collect his thoughts.

Fai shuddered. "It... Back in Valeria..."

Ashura's arms tightened around his son. "Valeria," he murmured, bracing himself. He feared that Fai's next revelations would not be pleasant. Fai's emotional troubles had originated with Valeria and its wretched citizens. In Valeria, twins were scorned and shunned as both harbingers and bearers of misfortune. As royal twins, Fai and his brother had been blamed and accused unfairly for every trouble that struck their country, then imprisoned in a hellish, timeless pit. There Fai's brother had died, and Fai had become desperate enough to make a deal with a monster.

"It's not really bad, but it brought back memories..." Fai said. He rubbed his face with one hand, smearing the tears on his cheeks. "The court ladies, some of them wore Mucha headdresses that looked kind of like Queen Rana's."

"Headdresses?" Headdresses were Fai's problem?

Fai explained, "They were these round medallions worn on each side of the head. They were covered with filigree, and had jewels and pearls hanging from them. Some of them were suspended from fancy headbands, and some from circlets. It was a fashion in Valeria. I even saw some rich commoners wearing them, and some ladies in the prison pit, after they died..." He started shaking.

"It's all right, Fai," Ashura soothed him. "I understand, now."

"No. No, you don't," Fai burst out. "My mother, she had a headdress like that. And her hair, it was pale blonde, almost like Queen Rana's hair. The hairstyle was different, and in Valeria the medallions were solid, not jeweled meshes like Queen Rana's, but...but it reminded me..." He quivered.

"Oh, Fai," Ashura sighed. "Fai..."

"Why did the queen have to wear that? Why?" Fai wailed.

"Fai..."

"My mother...my mother..." he whimpered, and burst into tears. "Oh, my mother... And my brother—I owe my brother... What I have to do... I forgot so much. How could I have forgotten? How?"

He sobbed and sobbed, and all Ashura could do was hold him and rock him.

"I forgot everything," Fai wept. "Everything. I shouldn't have forgotten. My brother... There's so much to remember, so much..."

"You may forget it all, with my blessing," Ashura murmured into Fai's ear. "You can be happy here, Fai. It's all right to be happy. You deserve some joy in your life. There is no blame, not now. Let the past be. It's over. It's over, and will never return."

Fai cried harder. He quavered with each wretched sob, clutching Ashura's clothes with a viselike grip. But this time the storm passed quicker, easier. Fai was already exhausted from crying, and had little energy left for more.

Ashura sat quietly until he felt Fai relax and go limp. The boy's chest rose and fell in deep, steady breaths. Ashura couldn't stifle the small, slightly hysterical chuckle that escaped him.

Fai had cried himself to sleep.

Ashura stood, lifting Fai in his arms lightly and carefully, so as not to disturb Fai's slumber. And then, walking with slow, smooth steps, he carried his cherished son from the shrine.


	36. Chapter 36

Fai didn't wake during the trip through the castle. He didn't even wake when Ashura put him to bed.

With the assistance of some maidservants, Ashura removed Fai's shoes and stripped off the elaborate court garb. The formal clothing, while beautiful, would hardly be comfortable sleepwear. The velvets and furs were soft enough, but not the stiff brocades, nor the jeweled needlework. The maids slipped onto Fai a nightshift of soft, finely woven linen, decorated with pale blue silk embroideries in an elaborate design of interlaced knots and fanciful animals.

One of the maids fetched a bowl of warm water and a soft cloth. Ashura picked up the cloth and gently dabbed at Fai's face, cleaning away the tear tracks.

Poor Fai. What a dreadful coincidence, Ashura thought, that Queen Rana's archaic headdress resembled those worn commonly in Valeria. He hoped Kyllikki did not share her mother's taste in jewels. The Lintukotoan princess seemed to prefer more modern clothes and ornaments, at least for the current visit. In any case, as the future Queen of Seresu, she would be expected to adopt Seresian fashions. With luck, Fai would not be confronted with another crispinette for a good, long time.

Of course, now that the initial shock had passed, Fai might discover the headdress no longer brought forth bad memories. He himself had said that Rana's crispinette didn't really look that much like the old, Valerian head ornament—merely that there had been enough of a resemblance to be a sad reminder of times past.

Ashura sat down on the edge of the bed and tucked Fai in, drawing up the fine sheets and thick, warm blankets. He arranged a few furs over Fai for good measure.

Fai made a soft noise, but his eyelids stayed shut. Ashura murmured some soothing nonsense, and Fai quieted.

He stroked his son's cheek. He would have liked to stay by Fai's bedside, but that was not possible. Not during a visit by the Lintukotoan royal family. Ashura's family and advisors could cover his absence for a little while, but Ashura could not be away too long without insulting Ukko. Ashura needed to be present in court to be King of Seresu for both the Lintukotoans and the Seresians.

It was only for a few more hours, he told himself. Then Ukko would take his family, his courtiers, his wizards and the rest of his retinue, and go home. It would be over, and Ashura could return to Fai. It wasn't much time at all.

He hoped Fai stayed asleep until then. Fai had exhausted himself, but it was still too early for Fai to be in bed. Ashura could only warn the servants to keep watch over Fai, and to call him should Fai awaken and exhibit any signs of distress.

A glance at Fai's elaborate clock told Ashura it was past time to return to court. He had been absent from his guests for almost an hour. He left Fai's bedroom and called for one of his body servants to help him change. It wouldn't do to entertain Ukko's party in clothes that were covered in tear and snot stains, and wrinkled beyond all hope.

He left instructions that Fai need not rejoin the court should he awaken before his festival curfew, which was a little later than normal. Ashura did not forbid Fai's return, though. He knew Fai enjoyed comedies and had been looking forward to the Lumi play. Fai would be disappointed to miss it. Ashura left the decision to Fai, but he rather hoped Fai would stay away.

When Ashura rejoined the party, he found that the entertainment had been delayed until his return. All was in readiness for the actors to begin the show, so he seated himself on the dais. Ukko, on his right, immediately commented, "Is your young one well? Your wizard, Lord Suhail, told us you were quite worried and had gone to find him."

"Yes, Fai is fine now," Ashura returned. "I have put him to bed."

"You have changed clothes, Your Majesty," Queen Rana observed, sitting at her husband's right.

Ashura looked down at himself. His garb was just as grand, but noticeably different from what he had been wearing earlier. "Alas, Fai was quite upset. My clothes did not survive the storm."

"What disturbed him so?" the queen asked.

This was a perfect opportunity to explain about Fai's reaction to Rana's crispinette. Ashura saw that both royal families were listening, including Kyllikki and Tancred. Perhaps Kyllikki would understand and choose not to bring such heirlooms with her to Seresu.

"I fear, Your Majesty, that your crispinette was the cause," Ashura said.

Queen Rana's hands flew to her gem-bedecked headdress. "My crispinette?" she asked, surprised. "Why should my crispinette cause your child any distress?"

"It reminded him of a type of headdress worn in his home country," Ashura explained. "He said they weren't the same, but there were enough similarities to bring back unhappy memories. His late mother owned one." He omitted mention of Rana's pale blonde hair. Fai's explanation had focused primarily the head ornament. Besides, Fai had encountered people with similar hair colors before with no adverse reaction.

"Oh, how terrible for him," said the queen. "Poor child."

She did not offer to remove her headdress. Ashura wondered if he gave her sense of tact too much credit, but then again, she was married to Ukko. She had no doubt lost a degree of sensitivity over the years. Anyone who maintained close contact with Ukko would need to cultivate a thick skin. However, Fai wasn't present. Perhaps if he woke and returned to the court, she would consider taking the crispinette off or disguising it with a veil.

Kyllikki said with arrogant righteousness, "Mother, I told you that you should have worn something more modern. That headdress is positively ancient."

"It is an important family heirloom," Rana sniffed. "It belonged to your father's great-grandmother, your great-great-grandmother. I wear it to honor our gracious host."

That statement exceeded Ashura's own estimates about the ornament's age and the Lintukotoan propensity for wearing ridiculously outmoded jewels. While Ashura appreciated the queen's intent, he did not feel particularly honored to be in the presence of an ancient museum piece, no matter how venerated by its present owner. Especially now that he knew it had traumatized Fai. Like Fai, he wished that Queen Rana had not worn it, and considered it a pity that the queen had not heeded her daughter's wise advice. Despite these thoughts, Ashura kept his mouth shut. He was not about to get embroiled in a mother-daughter dispute over jewelry. He noted that Ukko also remained quiet, which hinted at the Lintukotoan king's familiarity with similar family squabbles.

Kyllikki said dismissively, "It's old and musty. It doesn't go with new fashions at all."

"That's enough, daughter. Do not argue like this in front of King Ashura. He will think you a shrew." Rana added archly, "And so will your betrothed."

Tancred was too besotted to notice such trivial flaws. "I think she's perfect," he declared.

On Ashura's left, Kendappa laughed. "Of course you do," she said, smiling. She addressed Rana, "Your crispinette is very beautiful, Your Majesty. I appreciate how much you esteem its history. Your jewels are magnificent."

Mollified, Rana sat back and graciously inclined her head.

Kendappa said to Kyllikki, "My dear, you are quite lovely just as you are. After you wed Tancred, you will have high status, and so will help to set fashion here. You will have many new styles to choose from. Though I do hope you won't indulge in anything too outlandish."

"Never," Kyllikki proclaimed. "I will be a model princess, an example of fashion and propriety, and I will never wear a musty, old crispinette. Even if I liked them, which I don't, I wouldn't want to distress poor Fai. I would never embarrass or upset my new family."

"You only embarrass your current one," Ukko rumbled.

"Please, my friends," Ashura said, hoping to distract them from their bickering. "The play is ready to begin. Why don't we set aside this conversation and enjoy the comedy?"

"Of course," Ukko immediately assented. "We are being poor guests, to air our differences in public here."

Queen Rana and her daughter subsided. Kendappa's eyes twinkled, and she beamed to Ashura her approval of his diversionary tactic.


	37. Chapter 37

The play was a lighthearted comedy about the foibles of an absurd court fop who overdressed for every occasion, put on inappropriate airs, and believed he possessed amazing wit, to the dismay of his fellow courtiers. He wooed a succession of gentlewomen, but his true, if not yet recognized, romantic interest was a quiet, serious-minded lady who inexplicably loved him from afar. The clownish hero got into a variety of ridiculous situations and created general havoc, which the devoted lady repaired without expectation of reward. The plotline touched most of the clichés requisite for such a silly story, with the fribble discovering that his heart truly did belong to the lady. He swore off his pretentions, proposed to the lady, and the play ended happily, if predictably, with the two lovers marrying.

It was a type of story that had been done eight million times before. Ashura rather thought that Lumi Pahalaitar's talent was overrated, if this particular piece was a good representation of her works. The Lintukotoan guests applauded with enthusiasm, which made Ashura question their taste. He supposed such storylines became tired clichés because they were popular and so repeated endlessly. He tried to recall if his late wife had demonstrated admiration for such trite entertainment, and reluctantly acknowledged that she had. Even Kendappa and Sybilla appeared to have enjoyed the play. All the children had, as well, but that was only to be expected. It was the sort of thing that would appeal to young hearts and minds. With some melancholy, he admitted to himself that he no longer possessed either.

Perhaps he had enjoyed similar nonsense many years ago, when his life had been normal, not weighed with concerns about the fate of Seresu and knowledge about how that would affect the rest of the universe. He was the one who had changed, not everyone else. Or, he thought with self-deprecating humor, maybe he was simply too worried about Fai to have appreciated some light, fluffy amusement. That seemed likely to him. After the earlier disruptions, Fai was much on his mind.

Fai had not reappeared in court. As musicians took their places and the court prepared for the evening's dancing, a maidservant came to Ashura. She warned him that Fai had awakened, but still didn't feel well and so would remain in his quarters and read. That, Ashura felt, was probably for the best.

He repeated his earlier instructions that Fai could stay up a little later than usual if he wished, but no more than an hour past his festival bedtime. The maid curtseyed and departed.

Ukko and his family did not remain for much longer. Out of courtesy, they participated in a few of the dances. Tancred and Kyllikki both acquitted themselves well. Ashura accounted the day a success, as they had not taken a furious dislike to one another after a more prolonged exposure than the brief, secret meeting two days earlier. Though that might be due to how well chaperoned they were, in the midst of so much royalty and nobility that they could only exchange courteous words.

At the end of the third dance of the evening, Ukko and Rana came to Ashura, Kendappa, and Sybilla to bid them farewell. "It is well into the evening, and we have tarried too long from our own court," Ukko said. "My nobles will feel neglected should we dally here much longer."

Queen Rana said, "We thank you for your most excellent hospitality, Your Majesty. Truly, it was a splendid day."

"Oh, and thank you for the use of the fine chambers," Ukko said to Ashura. "We had a chance to inspect them while we were waiting for the play to begin and you were absent from court. Your cousin and sister by marriage were kind enough to take us to see them. They were quite adequate. A pity we never needed them, but your consideration was appreciated."

Ashura bristled a bit at hearing his chambers referred to as "adequate," but gave no outward indication of his irritation. He only smiled serenely, a façade he knew would annoy Ukko.

Kendappa said, "It was our pleasure to show them to you."

"Gracious lady," Ukko said, kissing her hand. "You never set a foot amiss." He bowed to Sybilla. "I have never spent such a fine evening, in the company of two such delightful princesses."

Ashura said, "We are glad that you have enjoyed your visit. I hope relations between our two countries continue to be amiable."

Ukko nodded. "In a year, we shall again have a strong blood bond between our houses. The future looks bright, indeed."

After a few more pleasantries, Ukko's party gathered in the center of the Great Hall. His three wizards worked together to create a large translocation spell. With a final farewell, the Lintukotoans vanished as they had arrived: in a flamboyant display of magical sparkles and swirling, billowing streamers of light.

Ashura heaved a deep, exasperated sigh. He was quite relieved that Ukko was finally gone, and didn't care who knew it. Seeing his expression, Kendappa hid a smile behind one hand.

Sybilla looked insufferably pleased and said, "That went quite well, all things considered."

Kendappa said, "Yes, we did pull off a miracle, didn't we? We arranged a spectacular royal gala with just two days' notice."

Sybilla agreed, "After this, Tancred's wedding will be a simple matter. There is plenty of time to plan that."

Kendappa's expression fell. "I will help while I can, of course."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot." Sybilla managed to look contrite, though Ashura was certain that she was pleased that Kendappa would not be much involved. With a solicitous look, Sybilla said, "But your own wedding will be amazing, I'm sure. You have such excellent organizational skills, and you will be a queen. Your resources will be limitless."

This thought cheered Kendappa. "True. I understand my future husband has a fine, fat treasury. I shall make good use of it. But I suspect I will be required to follow the traditions in Thule. That is all still to be negotiated," she added with an arch look at Ashura.

At least those financial expenditures would be King Jarilo's problem, Ashura thought, and not his. "What is to be negotiated now?" he asked wearily.

"I want to help plan my own wedding. You will make certain of it in your negotiations with Thule's ambassadors, won't you? Of course you will," she said without waiting for a reply.

Tancred broke in a bit belatedly, "You're already planning my wedding? But won't Kyllikki want to help plan it? It's her wedding, too."

Kendappa and Sybilla both raised an eyebrow. "I suppose she could be involved," Sybilla allowed, "but she will be in Lintukoto during most of the planning activities."

"But Lady Kendappa just said she wanted to plan her wedding, and she's marrying a king! Won't she be here, in Seresu, until she goes to her wedding? Why can she help plan her own wedding, but Kyllikki can't?"

"We'll talk about this later, Tancred."

Ashura tuned them out. He gestured to the musicians, and they began another dance set. Then he bowed to the two royal ladies and his nephew. "I believe I shall retire and check on Fai."

Kendappa said, "I do hope he's feeling better."

"By now, he should be in bed like the other children. Enjoy the rest of the evening, ladies, Tancred." He swept out of the court.

Partway to the royal family's wing, he recalled that his own apartment was probably still rearranged for Ukko. It was late, and he didn't want to deal with legions of servants bustling about and moving his possessions back. Then he shrugged. The Lintukotoans had not made any use of his quarters. The linens were clean, the chambers freshened and spotless. After he saw Fai, he would return to his own rooms. He would lack personal belongings, but at least he could sleep in his own bed, and not a cot.

His back would thank him for that consideration.

When he entered Fai's quarters, he was surprised to find them filled with light and bright as midday in high summer. He stopped in the doorway. The common room overflowed with magelights that bore Fai's unmistakable magical signature. Bright, white magelights, large and small, everywhere. Magelights in the wall sconces and lamps, magelights in every corner, magelights by each piece of furniture, magelights along the floor, clusters of magelights hovering in the middle of the room like eerie, levitating chandeliers.

"What is this?" he asked, bewildered. Magelights were a large part of the winter Festival of Lighting the Night, but the big light show wasn't until the end of the festival. "What is in Fai's mind?"

A young maid came rushing up to him and dropped into a wobbly curtsey. "Your Majesty," she said breathlessly. "Thank goodness you're back."

Ashura stared at her, trying and failing to recall her name. "What's wrong? Why did Fai create so many magelights?"

"The young Lord Wizard did not want to sleep in darkness, Your Majesty," the maid explained. "He lit magelights everywhere. He also did not want to sleep alone. There are two servants in his bedchamber to keep him company."

That wasn't good. Fai had not feared to sleep alone for almost two years. "Why didn't someone call me, or at least tell me Fai was upset?" Ashura asked sharply. What a dismal lack of common sense. He thought his servants knew better.

"Lord Fai ordered us not to trouble you." The girl trembled. "He said you shouldn't be interrupted while you were entertaining the King and Queen of Lintukoto."

Ashura scowled, but it wasn't the maid's fault. She had been following the orders of her youthful master, however idiotic those orders had been. The maidservant, still posed in her curtsey, shook and nearly fell over at his foul expression.

"Please, Your Majesty, please do not be wroth," she pleaded. "The Lord Wizard was most insistent."

"Oh, get up," Ashura snapped. "I will see to Lord Fai."

Relieved, the maid straightened and backed away. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

Ashura passed her by without another look. Fai's bedchamber was every bit as bright as the common room, with magelights glowing in profusion. The embroidered bed curtains were pulled wide open, letting in floods of light. The two servants, a man and a woman, had been dozing in chairs set on each side of the great bed. At their king's arrival, they jumped to their feet with identical gasps of surprise and dismay. Ashura's attention, however, was only for Fai.

Or rather, his attention was for the lump under the layers of blankets and furs that he assumed was Fai. He moved quickly to the bedside, gazing down at the blond hair peeking out from beneath the covers. "You're dismissed," he quietly told the servants. "Wait out in the common room." He barely noticed them leaving the room.

The lump quivered. A sniffle escaped the thick blankets.

Ashura sat on the edge of the bed. "Fai?" he queried, and pulled back the covers. Fai was curled up and turned away. Ashura put a hand on his son's shoulder and gently tugged him over. He wanted to see Fai's face.

Fai kept his eyes closed, but his rigid muscles betrayed his wakefulness.

Ashura touched Fai's throat, then placed the back of his hand upon the child's forehead. Fai's temperature was normal, but his pulse raced. Ashura shifted his hand to Fai's hair. "I know you're not asleep, Fai."

The blue eyes slowly opened. Fai sniffled again, but that was all. His eyes were reddened, but dry.

"What is wrong, Fai? Are you still upset about earlier? You should have told me."

"I didn't want to bother you," Fai muttered. He pushed Ashura's hand off his head, and sat up. "You were doing important things."

"Nothing is more important than you."

"Not even the treaty with Lintukoto?"

"Not even that," Ashura confirmed. He observed the dark shadows beneath Fai's eyes, the way the child's shoulders hunched forward ever so slightly, as though Fai were unconsciously trying to protect himself. "Fai, I am so very sorry about what happened earlier. I had no idea Queen Rana's headdress would bring up old memories for you."

"It's okay. It doesn't bother me anymore."

Then why can't you sleep? Ashura wondered but did not speak aloud. Why do you fear the dark so much you filled your chambers with light? Fai's unhappy memories had been reawakened, with dreadful results. Ashura wanted Fai to move beyond his past, but he didn't even know what else might trigger Fai's memories. He'd had no idea a simple headdress could cause Fai so much pain and make him regress to the frightened child of two years past. Who knew what other insignificant item in Seresu might remind Fai of old horrors?

Ashura supposed he and Fai had just been lucky to have avoided such pitfalls so far.

"If you like, I shall outlaw crispinettes," Ashura offered, outwardly deadpan and serious, but with his tongue firmly planted in his cheek. "I will make it illegal to wear them in public and in private. In fact, it will be illegal for anyone to so much as own one, even as an heirloom or costume piece. Any that still exist will be ferreted out and destroyed. None shall be spared," he proclaimed with regal grandiosity.

Fai stared at him incredulously. "That is so silly," he declared. "That's probably the silliest thing I've ever heard you say."

Ashura dropped the pompous façade and grinned at him. "Yes, I suppose it is."

It was such a ridiculous idea that it might distract Fai from his morass of renewed grief. Any other child would have giggled at the absurdity of outlawing antiquated headgear. Ashura knew it was too much to expect a smile, let alone a laugh, from Fai. But Fai calling him "silly" was a step in the right direction.

"Fai, do you think you could remove some of the magelights," he asked gently. "It's terribly bright in here. Surely so many are not required to light the room."

Fai shifted, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. "I like the light."

"Just banish a few," Ashura coaxed. "The room will still be lighted."

Fai sighed and nodded. Though he didn't make a move, half the magelights went out. "Is that better?"

"Much better." The room was not as painfully brilliant to the eye, but still bright as day. Ashura doubted he could convince Fai to put more of the lights out. Not tonight. Perhaps Fai would not require so many in another day or two. He stood up.

"Where are you going?" Fai asked. A hint of panic tinged his words.

"Just outside the room. I will sleep on the cot tonight." Upon witnessing Fai's state, Ashura had resolved to stay in Fai's quarters again. His back gave a little twinge of protest at the thought of another night in the cot, but there was no helping it.

"You're leaving me?" The panic became more pronounced.

"I told you, Fai, I will be just outside your bedchamber," Ashura said as soothingly as he could.

"Don't leave me," Fai whimpered. "Don't leave. Everyone always leaves. Don't leave, too."

The only people who had left were the two servants Ashura had dismissed. "The servants—?" Ashura stopped, suddenly understanding what Fai meant. The child was talking about his brother and his mother, the two people who had meant the most to him in Valeria. The two people he had mourned again, this very night, in the castle shrine.

Was this near hysteria the result of banishing a few magelights? Ashura cursed himself. He shouldn't have asked Fai to remove the lights. They seemed to have been a source of security for Fai, and now some were gone.

"I will have the cot moved in here, Fai," he said. "I will be in this very room. There is nothing to fear, Fai. I will not leave."

"You don't have to do that," Fai said quickly. "You don't have to go for the cot."

"I do not wish to sleep on the floor or in a chair, Fai." Ashura's back gave another twinge at the mere idea.

"You can sleep here." Fai patted the mattress. "This bed is gigantic. You won't be uncomfortable or crowded. A whole family could sleep here with room to spare."

Are you that insecure? Ashura thought, watching Fai carefully. It was true that the carved wooden bed was enormous, and could easily sleep five people. Many common families did, in fact, all sleep together for many reasons: for warmth against the cold, to conserve space, for security, for lack of the financial resources to have multiple beds. The practice was not unusual even in noble families. Siblings often shared a bed, and parents frequently preferred to keep young children close to watch over them.

It wasn't typical for the royal family, though. Money and space were taken for granted, watchful servants and guards were all but inescapable, and the royal castles were filled with light. Warmth could be a problem, as castles in general were prone to drafts, and bitter cold seeped through the stone walls. However, the private chambers of the royal wing were quite comfortable, with wood-burning hearths, heavy curtains, thick rugs, and ornate tapestries to shield the living space from chills. Fai's bedchamber was pleasantly warm, and the many blankets and furs on his bed kept him toasty.

Fai's eyes dropped, and he hugged his knees tight, as though bracing himself against rejection.

Ashura rubbed his face. "Very well. I admit a soft bed is far more appealing than the alternative."

At the acquiescence, Fai relaxed and looked relieved.

"Let me first take care of some things." Ashura turned toward the door.

"You said you'd stay!" came the immediate, childish protest.

"I will not leave you tonight, Fai," Ashura promised, "but I cannot sleep in this." He gestured at his elaborate, glittering court raiment.

Fai bit his lip, then nodded his permission for Ashura to go change. Ashura would have laughed if he hadn't been so worried about Fai's state of mind.

He slipped out of the bedchamber and ordered the waiting servants to assist him. He made quick work of washing up in the private bath and changing into a comfortable, linen nightshift. With a sudden burst of inspiration, he apported to him a book of fairytales. The stories were among Fai's favorites.

"I thought you might like me to read you a story," he said when he rejoined Fai. He held up the book, so Fai could see the title. "I recalled that you enjoy these tales."

"I'm not a baby anymore," said Fai, but his somber expression lightened. He looked like he wanted to be convinced that he really wasn't too old for childish amusements—at least, not this night.

"I enjoy reading to you," Ashura said truthfully. "Humor me." He got into the free side of the bed, fluffed the pillows, and opened the book. He had no difficulty reading the words in the bright light.

Fai shifted over. "Okay, I'll humor you," he said, snuggling in against Ashura's side. "If it makes you happy."

Ashura repressed a smile at the transparent ploy and wrapped an arm about Fai's shoulders. Fai felt so fragile to him, but Ashura knew that was just his imagination. Fai's build was naturally slight, but he possessed strength and skill, especially for a child his age. The sense of frailty came from Fai's brittle and oft unpredictable emotions.

Swallowing his worries, Ashura proceeded to read aloud a story that he knew Fai adored: An absurd fable about a foolish young man who tried to outwit a magical, shapeshifting fox. He kept his voice to a soothing drone, and was gratified to feel the even, deep breathing of sleep from Fai before the end of the tale.

He carefully set the book aside and shifted against the pillows, closing his eyes. Red glowed, the result of the brilliance in the room leaking through the thin skin of his eyelids. With a sigh, he apported a hand towel to him and used it to cover his face and keep out the light.

 


	38. Chapter 38

The day after Ukko's visit, everyone slumped a little, feeling a sense of letdown, like the party was over too soon. Even Ashura noticed. How could ordinary celebrations compare to the high-powered gala of entertaining foreign royalty? However, it did not last long. As the morning progressed, the subdued atmosphere lessened, and by noon gaiety again reigned. The denizens of the castle indulged in food, drink, and music.

While in general most aristocrats and servants preferred indoor light and warmth to the gloomy clouds and bitter cold outside, a few sporting events were held beneath the floating mountain while there was some daylight. Tancred showed great promise in the short-course skiing race, though he finished in the middle of the field. Ashura thought he did quite well, considering he had competed against adults with many more years of experience.

For the whole morning, Fai remained somber and quiet. Gone was the devious little imp who plotted mischief and pranks upon high-ranking noblemen and led his cousins down the garden path. The Fai of old had returned, a Fai who was quiet, well behaved, polite, courteous, and well mannered. The image of the perfect child.

Instead of romping with the other children, he stayed close to Ashura, at times trailing after him like a shadow. When that was not possible, as when Ashura needed to consult with this nobleman or that, Fai would find a way to remain somewhere nearby, always ready to return to Ashura's side when he could. Not even Virender and Mielu could tempt Fai away.

Ashura hated to see that behavior, but he supposed he should have expected it. Even without the reminders of his past, Fai's recent mischievous streak would have ended sooner or later. His scars ran deep and resisted fading. Probably Fai's moods would swing between happiness and gloom for a long time. During his cry on the night of Ukko's visit, Fai had seemed so very guilty about being happy.

No child should feel guilt for experiencing happiness.

Finally, Ashura insisted Fai go off with his adoptive cousins for a while, hoping that the distraction of childish fun might help. Fai complied with Ashura's request, but the small amounts of pleasure he expressed during the games seemed false to Ashura. As he had noted before, Fai had become expert in the art of deception.

Ashura gnawed his lower lip as Fai engaged half-heartedly in a game of tag. It was painful to watch Fai pretend like that.

"Majesty?" Vainamoinen said. "I have the latest report on Nadenda."

Grateful for the interruption, Ashura turned to his chief councilor. "Yes?" How sad was it that he would rather listen to a report on the lost village than observe Fai's pretense of normalcy?

"Rescue teams worked throughout the night and morning, but..." Vainamoinen sighed. "So far, no survivors have been recovered."

Probably plenty of bodies, though, Ashura thought. After so long, any people who weren't killed outright by the frozen onslaught and had instead been buried alive would have died of suffocation or hypothermia. High numbers of fatalities were common enough when a severe avalanche annihilated a mountain settlement. Most avalanches occurred in unpopulated areas, but all mountain villages were at risk. Whether they were struck or not was simply a matter of odds. Fortune had not smiled upon the mining town of Nadenda.

Both he and Vainamoinen knew no survivors would be found. Had there been any, the mages sent with the rescue teams would have identified them right away. Their priority was for the living. The fact that no living people had been found meant that there were none to be found.

"How is morale among the rescuers?" Ashura asked.

"It could be better," Vainamoinen admitted.

Ashura nodded sadly. "Prepare an escort for me. I'll go visit the site."

"Thank you. That would help," Vainamoinen said. "They need to know their efforts are appreciated."

Ashura had a quick word with Kendappa, asking her to keep an eye on Fai. Then he changed into heavier, warmer clothing, joined his escort, and teleported the group to the rugged slopes to which Nadenda had once clung.

The avalanche had been a big one. The village was gone. No intact structures remained. Where there had once been narrow streets and stairways, snug homes, and buildings for commerce, now lay heavy, clumpy masses of grimy snow, ice, and debris. The detritus embedded in the snow included upended trees, rough boulders, shingles and chimney stones, and broken timbers from houses. Ashura thought he spotted a horse's hoof sticking up through the icy crust near some tree roots clotted with dirt and rocks.

Teams of people dug in the snow. Some were directed by mages who used spells to find the corpses. Others employed specially trained dogs to scent out the victims, or long sticks to probe under the frozen cover for bodies. It was disheartening work, but at the very least the dead would be located and given a decent funeral.

The soldiers in Ashura's escort murmured and shifted restlessly. Ashura pulled his furred greatcoat closer about himself. A frigid wind blew in random gusts, but his action had not been in response to that. No one liked the aftermath of an avalanche, and though most had witnessed it all before, few ever really got used to it.

The rescuers had erected a series of tents for shelter. Beyond them lay long rows of...

Ah. The dead. Recovered in the night and during the morning. Ashura inhaled sharply. His subsequent exhalation condensed into mist in the cold air.

A small group noticed Ashura's arrival. A shout of "The king!" went out. Everywhere, people stopped working and knelt in the snow. Ashura sighed again. It was time for a performance. He lifted his gloved hands and magically projected his voice so all could hear.

"Please, rise." There was no sense having them all on their knees in this mess. He paused until everyone was up. "My people, I know how difficult a task this is. It tears the hearts of us all. Know that your king is so very proud of you, and commends your efforts. Those we have lost in this disaster will be accorded honor in death, and all of you shall be rewarded for your stalwart labor."

There were some cheers. Ashura personally considered his speech a rather anemic and artificial attempt at encouragement, but hadn't the heart for anything better. He nodded to the searchers. "Now pray continue your work, and may the gods shower their grace upon you."

There were more cheers, proving that even a little recognition could lighten the heavy atmosphere of dejection and grief. Probably some of the dead villagers were known to the searchers, perhaps some were even friends or loved ones. Ashura turned aside and walked toward the rows of dead. A show of respect was expected. His guards followed.

He stopped at the first line of corpses. The bodies had frozen in the elements, twisted and broken, with chalky white skin showing hints of blue. Many eyes were wide and frosted over, many mouths open in eternal screams. Nature had shown the townsfolk no mercy, and every age group was represented. Ashura saw a grandmother huddled in death. Next to her a young man and woman forever clutched a toddler between them, attempting to shield the child. They would have frozen that way, and now would never be parted.

He closed his eyes and bowed his head, wondering why the scene was so affecting. Surely it would be no different when he, and not an avalanche, was the mass killer. Babies and grandparents would die horrible deaths, just like this.

No, not like this. It would be even worse.

Familiar power thrummed through him, of a teleportation spell well controlled but still noticeable. Alarmed by the newcomer's identity, Ashura blinked open his eyes.

A childish voice spoke from behind him: "This is terrible."

"Fai," Ashura breathed in horror. Slowly, he turned to face his son. He should have known! He should have known Fai would follow him to this raw, open grave of a town. Fai had been so clingy all morning, of course he had come. Probably Fai had panicked the instant Ashura had left his sight. Kendappa couldn't have stopped him from coming. No one could.

Fai shouldn't see this. Fai had seen too much death in his own world, had been surrounded by it for years uncountable in an enchanted, timeless prison pit.

"Fai," Ashura repeated, fearing Fai's reaction, fearing the worst. Fai had fallen apart at the sight of a simple headdress. How badly would he react to the death all around them? Ashura said firmly, "Go home."

"Is everyone dead?" was Fai's only response to that order. He looked at the rows of frozen dead, laid out like the tiles of a board game. His expression was somber, but not hysterical or panicked. He turned his head to survey the workers, the carnage of jumbled snow and debris. Ashura felt a deep pulse of magic sweep through the entire landscape. It faded, and then Fai turned knowing blue eyes on Ashura. "Everyone's dead," he stated flatly.

"Yes," Ashura confirmed. He couldn't lie, nor even soften the ugliness, not when Fai had detected the truth for himself. "Fai, you shouldn't be here. Please go home." All he could do was plead with Fai to leave. He couldn't force Fai to do anything Fai didn't want to do, but Fai usually accommodated him. Ashura promised, "We'll talk when I get back."

"I'm the Royal Wizard," Fai said. "I should be here with you. I should be helping."

"No, Fai. Not this time."

"You gave me the D title for service to Seresu. You made me Royal Wizard. I have responsibilities." Despite its childish pitch, his voice seemed to change, becoming formidable and filled with age, with abominable experience.

Fai's stared at and through Ashura, his eyes hard and relentless, as though he were an adamant, seasoned war wizard of ninety years, rather than a little child. His age, though, was only physical. For all Ashura knew, Fai might be nine hundred years old, not merely nine.

Ashura always floundered on those occasions when Fai's unnatural maturity made its presence known. It always took Ashura by surprise, and left him feeling outclassed and overmatched. At least those instances were becoming rarer, as time put some distance between Fai and his past.

"I wonder if this is my fault," said Fai, very softly, as though he were musing to himself.

Ashura started at that. "No," he replied. "It was random chance. It has nothing to do with you."

"It's like in Valeria."

"No, it is _not._ " Ashura kept his voice low, but stressed every syllable. "It is _nothing_ like Valeria. It was a random avalanche. They happen here. Sometimes a settlement is just...in the way. It happens."

"My brother and I—"

"NO!"

Fai gaped at him. So did the royal guards, who had been keeping idle watch over the surroundings until the moment Ashura had shouted.

Ashura waved at them casually, letting them know that nothing was wrong and that they should return to keeping watch. He knelt down before Fai. He raised his hands, wanting to enfold Fai in a protective embrace, but Fai looked so stiff and bleak, like an old granite statue, deeply worn by time, weathered and weary, but still upright and firm. Defeated, Ashura covered his own face, breathing out a long exhalation, and then worked up the nerve to rest his hands on Fai's shoulders.

"Fai, you may not have seen the full extent of damage for yourself before, but you know avalanches are common in Seresu," he said, staring into his child's fathomless, ageless blue eyes. "They are a natural, _normal_ hazard. Towns and villages have been destroyed by them throughout this country's entire history. They have occurred countless times in the thousands of years that passed before you ever came here, and they will continue for as long as Seresu endures."

He hoped he had killed Fai's fledgling speculations on that old Valerian belief about twins causing misfortune. Despite the fact that Fai's brother was long dead, deep down Fai had never truly purged his innate fear, his conviction, that he brought tragedy to those around him. He would probably carry those fears for a long, long time.

Under Ashura's hands, Fai's shoulders were rigid, his posture unyielding. Fai said, "I am the Royal Wizard. I am a D-titled wizard."

Ashura briefly closed his eyes. His fingers tightened on Fai, relaxed again. "Yes, you are."

"This country is mine now. Its people are my people."

"Yes."

A light gust ruffled their furred garments. Ashura's hair and Fai's blond locks fluttered in the chill breeze. The wind died again.

Fai said, "I want to help my people."

"That is a good desire," Ashura said, while his stomach clenched.

"It is my duty," Fai said with determination.

Ashura's stomach did backflips, but he kept his expression calm. "You already fulfill your duty admirably. You are an excellent Royal Wizard. Your D title was, and is, well earned."

"You keep telling me I am the most powerful wizard in the country."

"Yes, because it is true," Ashura confirmed. His stomach stopped doing acrobatics and settled on producing enormous amounts of acid, instead. "You are the most powerful wizard in the entire world." What else could he say? Fai _was_ the most powerful wizard in the world. There was no denying it.

He wished Fai would return to being a child, to being his sweet, innocent little boy. This latest mature mood was unbearable.

"My power is very destructive," Fai said, his gaze growing wintry.

"It can be," Ashura agreed slowly. "It depends on how you use it, and the care you exercise."

"As destructive as this avalanche."

Again, it was the simple, unvarnished truth. Fai's power, combined with the evil curse he didn't even know he bore, could destroy an entire world. Ashura wondered what, exactly, was in Fai's mind. Was he still dwelling on the past, thinking of how he had been blamed for calamities in Valeria?

Ashura picked his next words carefully. "Fai, all power can be destructive, whether it is the result of natural forces or human desires. Power itself is neither good nor evil. Nature's power is awesome and unpredictable, and therefore dangerous, but it is mindless and undirected. Humans are different. They possess will and intent. They can control their actions, temper and direct their power according to their desires. The most destructive power can be turned to good purposes by a sufficiently skilled and resourceful person."

"I want to protect my people," said Fai, "but sometimes I'm so afraid."

"You do protect your people," Ashura insisted. "Think of all the times you have used your power to help the people of Seresu." He deliberately chose an example where destructive power had led to good results. "Remember that time last spring when you broke free the ice jam on the Vilyu River? Had you not done so, the river would have soon backed up and flooded the village there. Uncontrolled flooding of the freezing water and ice would have caused horrible damage to the villagers' homes and fields. Your power averted great hardship for those people."

Fai didn't look convinced.

Ashura offered more examples, of simple, everyday activities that Fai probably took for granted. "And must I remind you that nothing is destroyed when you use your magic to sense and locate lost or hidden things, or when you travel? What was destroyed when you teleported here?" He deliberately did not mention how Fai had used a finding spell to seek out survivors just a little while ago. He didn't think that would be helpful under the circumstances.

Fai's expression didn't change, but he said thoughtfully, "My power..."

Ashura held his breath. Had his arguments been enough to allay Fai's recurrent fears?

Fai's eyes darkened. "I never want to see another avalanche destroy a town again."

"Fai, I told you, avalanches happen in Seresu. They are an uncontrollable force of nature. We try to locate new settlements as safely as possible and set up barricades where viable, but there are always constraints and necessities. Nadenda was a mining town, so it needed to be near the mine here. We do what we can to prepare, but—"

"If I am human, I possess will and intent. You just said so."

"If you are human?" Ashura repeated dumbly. "Fai, what are you talking about?" He knew Fai was perfectly human. He also knew that someday, far in the future, Fai would become something other than human. Fai couldn't possibly know that future, though, so what maggot had gotten into his head now?

Fai's gaze again swept over the dead, the devastation, of Nadenda, of the recent avalanche's wake. "I will protect my people."

Ashura's heart thumped so loudly he feared it might deafen him. "From avalanches?" he managed to get out.

"Yes," said Fai. "From avalanches. And from other hazards. I will. It is my duty."

"Do not impose unreasonable expectations on yourself. You are still just a child." It was a last gasp protest, but Fai's unrelenting maturity was as formidable and terrifying a force as any avalanche. "You cannot ask more of yourself than the other D-titled wizards. They are older, more experienced, more knowledgeable—"

"I am more powerful than them. My burdens must be heavier."

"Give yourself time to grow up. You are too young."

"I will be what I need to be." Fai's voice was calm and quiet, yet to Ashura it seemed a knell of doom. Fai stepped back, out of Ashura's grip, as though rejecting any human touch. Cold as snow and ice, he stared up at the leaden sky. His expression was remote, his sad eyes seemingly locked on distant events. "I will do what I must, in all things. For all my life." For an instant, he was winter personified.

_No!_ Ashura's heart howled. He wanted to scream, to fling himself upon the ground and beat it with his fists. His guts writhed, and he barely prevented himself from spewing his last meal all over the snow. How could this conversation have led to such utter _catastrophe?_

He had thought he would comfort Fai, shield him from the ugliness of the deaths in Nadenda, divert him from thoughts of the dead Valerians in the prison pit. He had hoped to distract Fai from the horrible memories that might have been triggered by the sight of all the dead bodies lying not so far away.

Instead, everything that had just transpired had sealed Fai's fate, had determined his path.

His path through life.

His path to the future avalanche.

Everything that had happened had created and confirmed that future. There was no stopping it.

There had never been any stopping it.

Still on his knees, Ashura clasped his hands together, tightened them so hard he hurt himself. The snow beneath him felt cold, so cold, even through his warm furs, thick wool garments, and tooled leather boots. With stiff, wracking movements, he climbed to his feet.

In the time it took Ashura to stand, Fai's ageless, world-weary countenance fell away, revealing the young boy again.

"Don't you understand?" little Fai pleaded. "I have to do something! I have to help!"

The past determined the present. The past and present joined with human will, intent, and desire to create the future.

"I do understand, Fai," Ashura said heavily. He unclenched his hands, let them fall to his sides, useless and impotent. He never seemed able to salve this old wound of Fai's. Fai didn't merely want to help, though that desire was honest enough. Fai was kind, sometimes too kind for his own good, and far too introspective. He wanted to help, but he also wanted to _atone_. Atone for the supposed crime of being born a twin who brought misfortune in Valeria, and his misplaced sense of guilt for his brother's death. Fai's past continued to create his present, and his future.

His future...

Perhaps, Ashura thought, Fai even desired to atone for the actions he would take many years hence, in the service of that dark, polluted sorcerer he had bargained with back in his Valerian prison. Ashura could relate to the desire to compensate in the present for future evil.

"I understand," he repeated. He understood far too well.

"This is so awful," Fai said. "I can't stand by and let horrible things like this keep happening. I just can't."

"Fai, you must make me a promise," Ashura said, in a last, hopeless bid to protect his child. "You must let me know before you try to help in perilous situations. I do not say you cannot help, but some things must not be done alone. Some things require the assistance of many people. You must learn to let other people help you. You must not try to do everything alone." He stretched out his hand.

Fai moved forward and took hold of Ashura's fingers. "When are we going home?" he asked. "It's cold here." He gave a little shiver. He blew air through his lips in a long, showy stream of fog, and used a tiny hint of magic to twist it into lively little corkscrews.

Ashura noted how Fai had avoided making any promises. He should press Fai, he knew. He should extract the promise. But then, that would only force Fai to break his promise, wouldn't it? Ashura's own visions had shown him that Fai would try to stop an avalanche all by himself. There was no sense in pushing an issue that would only hurt Fai later, one that would make him feel torn in two between a promise to Ashura and his driven need to protect his adopted people.

Fai had been hurt enough already by his birth country and family. He would be hurt again, dreadfully, in the future, by his adoptive father.

Guilt was a terrible, self-destructive thing, no matter one's age. It drove one to foolish decisions.

Ashura pretended that Fai had deceived him. He let the matter drop.

Foolish decisions, indeed. But what else could he do?

"I cannot leave just yet," he said. "I must spend a little more time on site, to help encourage the workers and make certain their needs are met. You should return home now, though."

Fai tightened his grip on Ashura's hand. "I want to stay with you."

Ashura might have insisted, but the warmth of Fai's hand in his own seemed to seep through the heavy gloves.

"Very well," he said, and forced his lips to form a faint smile, something he hoped looked reassuring, rather than fake and strained. "I am sure everyone will be pleased to see you."

And so they were. Fai was a warm, bright light in winter's chill and the general atmosphere of depression, and all the rescue workers smiled upon him as he made the rounds with Ashura among the ruins of the dead village.

 


	39. Chapter 39

Late morning on the day before the festival's end, Ashura received word that several Völur had arrived in Luval Town. Three Völur, to be exact. The news did not particularly please him, but Völur always appeared in the town during festivals. They conducted blessings and consultations with the townsfolk, and lent authority to certain religious observances.

Rarely did the Völur encroach upon the castle or court. They usually held themselves aloof from what they considered the profane politics and frivolity of the country's rulers. The last time they had appeared inside Luval Castle had been two years previous, during the spring Sunbirth festival after he had rescued Fai. They always presided over the King's Sacrifice during Sunbirth at the ancient sanctuary within the Silvalfar Forest, but that year the sacrifice had triggered magical events that Ashura still considered unfortunate, though they had been viewed by most everyone else in the country as an excellent omen.

That there were three Völur in the town now made Ashura particularly unhappy. He fretted that they might be the same three he had met in Seresu's far northern reaches. He dreaded encountering them again and feared what their arrival might portend. Muttering under his breath, he retreated to his office, thinking that he should scry them out.

He almost didn't perform the spell. Did he truly want to know if the same trio had returned to haunt him? But curiosity overcame apprehension, and his fingers moved as if of their own volition. The magical script flared, and a large mirror of ice materialized, hovering in midair before him. Images shimmered into view on the flat, transparent surface.

As though from a high vantage point, Ashura saw the whole town. It was dim and shadowy, as the sun on the horizon barely lightened the thick clouds, coloring them in shades of muted red and yellow. The festival coincided with the sun's shortest trek through the sky, when only a few hours of daylight brightened the days.

Fluffy white flakes drifted downward, adding to the picturesque landscape of snow and timbered, steep-roofed buildings. Windows glowed with the golden warmth of lamps, and more lamps lit the streets. He narrowed his search, and the image came closer, closer. People were out and about, chattering among themselves in the gentle snow. In the town square workmen constructed a large, pyramidal structure of logs and sticks for a bonfire. Many of the townsfolk added to it from their own stores: dolls made of straw; small papers and wooden plaques inscribed with wishes; food items; personal belongings; even the occasional flower from those who had the means to nurture such frail life during deep winter's harsh grip. Offerings to the gods.

The three Völur stood together at the north of the pyramid. Their blue and black cloaks and their staves identified them without question. Each townsperson brought his or her offering first to the sacred priestesses, who blessed it. Then the offering was reverently placed somewhere on the bonfire stack, to be set alight on the final day of the winter festival. It was a typical bonfire blessing. The commoners held one just like it during most of Seresu's holidays.

Ashura paused to consider that he had never taken Fai to a bonfire lighting. He wondered if Fai would like to view one sometime. Perhaps this one. Though Fai often traveled about on his own, he might enjoy a small, shared adventure with Ashura.

In general, Ashura did not usually attend the town's celebrations. He had done so on occasion, but the appearance of a royal entourage, with its many guards and noble attendants, always disrupted events. He had never witnessed a normal celebration, as the town leaders always deferred and catered to him. Look at how his presence at Luval Town's ice sculpture contest, back when Fai had lit the sculptures with colorful magic, had drawn out an official delegation.

Until now, Ashura had never particularly cared about the pandering. It was his due. But on this occasion it would be a hassle and interfere with Fai's outing. Even if he only took a small retinue, he was still the king. Everyone would be so busy fawning and gawking at him that the bonfire would become an afterthought.

Perhaps if he and Fai went incognito? Donned commoner clothes and wore magical glamours to disguise their facial features, and went without a horde of attendants? The idea amused him. His guards and councilors would have a fit if they found out.

He and Fai need not go completely unescorted. A court wizard like Syed D Greenstone could serve the dual purpose of guard and guide. Syed, Ashura recalled, had not been born into the highest nobility, but rather into the cadet branch of a minor noble house. He probably knew his way around town festivals. Ashura considered who else among his court and guards might possess the right sense of humor. They couldn't attend for long, because they needed to be in Luval Castle for the court's celebrations. But just for a little while, that wouldn't hurt. Pleased with his irreverent idea, he leaned back and watched the preparations on his mirror. If these Völur weren't a threat, maybe he could indulge in a little silliness.

Ashura magnified the image of the Völur and inspected them. They looked like any other Völur. Raptor feathers and gold fittings decorated staves topped with fluorite orbs. In addition to their distinctive cloaks and staves, they wore elaborate necklaces of fluorite beads, black lambskin belts and gloves, tooled leather shoes decorated with brass or gold knobs. The most elaborately dressed Völva—probably the senior priestess—stood between the other two.

Most importantly to Ashura, they were unknown to him; they were not the same three he had met before. This trio seemed more earthly, more...human. He relaxed as his sense of foreboding eased. Perhaps he really could find a way to take Fai to the bonfire celebration.

All three Völur lifted their faces in unison, seemingly looking straight at him. He could swear their eyes met his. And then they all smiled, nodded their heads in respect, and returned to their blessings.

Ashura broke the spell. The ice mirror shattered, the shards evaporating into air.

He hurried from his office, barely keeping himself from running. After a few minutes, he calmed and berated himself for idiocy. Of course the Völur had noticed him spying on them. Magic called to magic. Skilled magicians would have felt his magic touching them, and even the weakest of Völur were well trained in the detection of magic. Theirs was a secretive cult, and they did not allow others to learn their mysteries. Not even the king could be privy to them.

Ashura wasn't sure he would notice if they spied upon him. After his encounter with them in the far north, he feared he would not. More interesting was that these Völur had allowed him to scry them. They had not interfered with his spell, but had instead honored him, albeit in an unnerving way. A bonfire blessing was an open event, though, not one of their secret gatherings. He doubted he would ever be allowed to learn anything substantive about them.

It mattered little whether they were stalking him or not. He could do nothing about it, and in any case, he was the most public person in the entire country. Everyone watched him, not just the Völur. He put the Völur from his mind and resolved to enjoy the rest of the winter festival.

However, he would not take Fai to the town's bonfire lighting.

 


	40. Chapter 40

The eve prior to the winter festival's final day was customarily reserved for family and the giving of small tokens. The royal family always gathered privately in their solar for this informal ritual. Had they done it during the daylight hours of summer, the many-windowed room would have been full of natural light. In midwinter, night fell a couple hours after midday, and the portals showed only impenetrable darkness.

However, the solar was not gloomy. The hearth blazed with fire and warmth. Magelights set in ornate wall sconces and lamps provided light and glowed on the polished, rich wood furniture. Luxurious cushions and carpets added to comfort, and splendidly woven and embroidered wall hangings helped insulate against the cold that always seeped in through the stone walls. Beeswax candles, while not required for illumination, lent a warm, comforting atmosphere with their golden light and sweet scent. The table normally used for simple dining, such as breakfast, now held an array of small finger foods, sweetmeats, and drinks.

Generally, only the closest family members and friends exchanged trinkets. It was yet another part of the festival designed to alleviate the gloom and depression that the long dark of winter could inflict, a small ray of hope and happiness to be shared until the sun grew stronger.

Ashura's whole family had gathered: Fai, Kendappa, Sybilla, Tancred, Virender, and Mielu. No servants were present, and everyone chatted freely. It was a rare occasion when the royal family could be private, and that all members of the family were in amity with one another. Ashura reflected with hidden amusement that many royal families in centuries past had used the privacy to deliver threats and worse to one another.

Not this evening, though. After some genial toasts and drinking, they got down to the serious business of gift giving. Kendappa exclaimed over Ashura's gift to her: a vial of exotic perfume from a distant land with a name he couldn't pronounce at all. The merchant had claimed the perfume possessed esoteric properties, but Ashura had detected no magic beyond the pleasant, spicy scent.

He gifted all his relatives with expensive playthings: For Sybilla a jeweled necklet, Tancred a set of boar hunting spears. He gave Virender a fine, superbly crafted ceremonial sword. Mielu delighted in fascinating, complex toys, and gurgled happily at the fanciful puzzle box of gilded wood, crystals, and magic. Once she figured out the key, she promised, she would hide her most special treasures in it.

At last, Ashura presented Fai with a book of obscure, whimsical spells he had chosen and penned himself. He had also put his childhood art lessons to good use by illuminating the pages with colorful paintings inspired from various magical texts and artworks. The spells varied in difficulty, with the easiest being slightly too advanced for Fai. Fai could be incredibly focused when motivated, though, so Ashura hoped the spells would provide Fai with at least a few months of entertainment and practice.

"It's so wonderful," Fai said in a reverent voice, passing his hand over the engraved pages. "Thank you very much. I can't wait to try some of them." Though he clearly wanted to immediately go to work figuring out the spells, he set the book aside. Looking oddly shy, he said to Ashura, "I've got something for you, too. Hold out your hands and close your eyes."

Ashura smiled and did as instructed. A warm glow of magic hovered over his open palms, coalescing into a smooth, cube-shaped object. It filled both hands, and felt cool to the touch. Subtle magic hummed within it.

"You can open your eyes now," Fai said.

Ashura did so, and looked down at the prize he now held. It was a large fluorite crystal, in its most common, cubical form found in nature, but with its faces highly polished. The stone was so clear, colorless, and pure that it could only have come from the frozen mines of Dalnegorska. Dalnegorska provided the best and largest fluorite specimens in the kingdom. A great many fluorite focus stones for staves and other esoteric purposes came from there. The clearest and most colorless fluorite was often described as crystallized water, and this fluorite stone Fai had gifted to him was in that rarest of categories.

"What a beautiful fluorite crystal, Fai," he said. "I feel magic in it."

"Touch it," Fai said with anticipation. "Use your right index finger."

Ashura did as instructed. The faces shimmered, and within the stone an image of himself, Kendappa, and Fai appeared. Fai looked so very young and serious. Ashura recognized the picture as a duplicate of the painting he had commissioned of them during the first year Fai had lived in Seresu.

He raised his eyes to his son, profoundly touched. "Fai, thank you so very, very much. I shall treasure this forever."

"Touch it again."

Upon the next touch, the crystal displayed an image of Kendappa, dimpling and looking very beautiful and happy. It was another image taken from a painted portrait, this one having been commissioned recently. Kendappa, leaning over his shoulder, remarked, "I'm glad it turned out so well, Fai." To Ashura, she said, "He worked on this for ages."

Fai said, "I asked Lord Suhail to teach me a spell for preserving images in crystal. He and Lady Kendappa helped me a lot with it, but I practiced it over and over until I got it just right. Then I modified it so it would save more than one image. I keyed it to your aura. Now that you've touched it, you're the only person in the whole world who can activate it."

Ashura's breast swelled with pride in Fai's skill and creativity, even as he felt his eyes sting with tears of joy and love for this most wonderful son. He blinked to clear the moisture, lest Fai misunderstand. "Fai, I don't know what to say." He stopped, truly at a loss for words.

"Touch it one more time."

Ashura reverently stroked his finger over the fluorite again, and the image changed to one of Fai. Fai, in all his glory as a noble prince, a D-titled wizard, and the Royal Wizard. Arrayed in furs, velvet, and silken robes, glittering with gold and jewels, Fai stood proudly, holding his tall, imposing staff, surrounded by silvery moonlight, solemn and perfect. So had Fai looked on the night of his investiture, the night he had received his D title. Frozen forever within a pure, magical fluorite crystal.

Ashura could only stare at the image as that memorable, splendid night came back to him. No words could ever convey his pride, his wonder, or his appreciation for this marvelous gift from Fai.

All the pictures within the crystal came from paintings in the royal gallery. This particular portrait hung in a prominent place in that hallway, among all the Vanir ancestors and relatives.

Fai said, "If you touch it again, it will go blank. You can also will which image you want the crystal to display. You can add to it, too, if you want. I can show you how."

"Thank you, Fai." Ashura cycled through the pictures again. It was such an amazing, thoughtful gift. He lifted his eyes to his son. "Thank you very much. I don't have the words."

"You're not going to hug me or anything, are you?" Fai said suspiciously, very much on his dignity.

Ashura did, in fact, want to do exactly that, but he restrained himself in the face of the nine-year-old's pride. "I shall cherish this gift for the rest of my life, Fai." When life seemed unbearable, Ashura would gaze upon the images in this crystal to remind himself of the good times, of the happiness and joy that even the darkest of hours could not erase.

The thought drifted through his mind that the crystal was a good example for Fai that not all powerful magic was destructive, as Fai had worried the other day at Nadenda. A comfortable family gathering wasn't the right place for another of those conversations, though. Perhaps the next time Fai worried that he was a born calamity, Ashura would mention this exquisite construction of magic and crystal. No destroyer could ever have created it.

While the children admired and compared their new treasures, Kendappa brought forth her harp and began strumming some traditional winter solstice songs. Ashura and Sybilla hummed along, enjoying the gentle, harmonious atmosphere that came so rarely at court.

 


	41. Chapter 41

The last day and night of the festival were held on the winter solstice. In a normal year, this time was the most magnificent, with the best clothes and jewels on display, the best food, and the most excellent entertainments. As the current festival had been graced midway by a visit from the King and Queen of Lintukoto, the splendor of the solstice feast seemed not quite as grand as previous years, though in truth nothing was lacking. Merely, everyone both high and low had already brought forth their best in honor of King Ukko Ylijumala and Queen Rana Niejta.

There was nowhere to go from up, Ashura thought cynically, feeling the same sense as his subjects that this year's festival was concluding on an anticlimactic note. He resolved to avoid issuing invitations to in-laws during festivals again. Or, if political necessity dictated otherwise, timing the invitations better.

A special observance of the solstice was always held at sunset, right before the last and greatest feast began. The trestle tables were already set up in the Great Hall, filled with courtiers, highly ranked servants, and the officers of the castle guard. Lower-ranking servants and guardsmen crowded on the sidelines. Most people in residence in Luval tried to attend the short ceremony; only those whose duties interfered missed it.

Ashura, Fai, and the rest of the royal family stood before the table upon the dais. Amid a great fanfare by trumpeters and rhythmic beating of drums, four servants, bedecked with holly, mistletoe, and glistening quartz crystals fashioned to look like icicles, entered the room. Upon their shoulders they bore two poles from which hung an engraved copper cauldron. Fragrant steam wafted from the vessel's interior. The servants carried the cauldron past the tables to the dais. They knelt a few feet away from the first step, settling the cauldron on the floor with care so that the warm liquid within did not slosh. They then rose, bowed, and walked to the sidelines. The musicians stilled, and the court went quiet.

Gravely, Kendappa stepped down from the dais and moved off to the side. The elegant train of her shimmering blue gown whispered down the stairs after her. She returned with a large, two handled cup made of silver. Twisting knot designs in gold and jewels decorated its exterior, and inside the bowl ancient symbols of death and rebirth had been inscribed. Kendappa bowed to Ashura, and with great solemnity presented the ceremonial cup to him.

Ashura held it with reverence in both hands. He descended the dais and stood before the cauldron. The rest of the royal family followed and arrayed themselves on either side of him. The royal council and court wizards joined them.

Ashura inhaled the rising steam, enjoying the rich fragrance of the spiced wine. The cooks had done themselves proud and had not stinted on the traditional libation. The wine was the castle's finest red, its deep color reminding him of perfect rubies. He detected mace, cinnamon, ginger, and cloves, all mingling with fruity scents. He dipped the cup into the holiday brew, filling it almost to the brim. Still holding it with both hands, he lifted it up and out, toward his court.

"This night, the winter solstice, marks the passing of darkness's reign," he said, putting a touch of magic into his voice so the ritual words would reverberate ever so slightly. "We celebrate the longest night in winter, and the bright return of the sun upon the morrow as it once again gains ascendancy. Our days will lengthen with the promise of new life in the eternal cycle of death and rebirth. We bid farewell to winter's darkness, and fill this, the longest night of the year, with light and warmth to guide the sun back to us."

Somehow he managed to speak with conviction, despite what he knew of Seresu's future doom. He hoped the venerable ritual was correct, and that death led to life, as darkness led to light. He had to believe in the cycle of death and rebirth. He had to believe that the death of Seresu, of his world, would grant life to creation. All things passed, but with their passing more things came to be. That was the way of all existence.

His gaze slid to Fai, and he offered up another prayer that Fai would one day do as destiny demanded so that the cycle of life could continue. Ever since Fai had arrived in Seresu, Ashura had had these thoughts at the culmination of the midwinter festival. He knew he would continue to do so until the very last festival before the end of his world.

Ashura brought the great cup to his lips and drank a few swallows of the spiced wine. The heated liquid slid past his tongue, the heavy, potent spices tingling upon his taste buds. The alcohol warmed his throat and belly, chasing away his fears. This night was for celebration, and he would celebrate. He smiled for his court, and held up the cup again.

The courtiers cheered and pounded the tables with approval. Ashura passed the cup to his heir, Tancred, who also drank. Then the cup passed to the rest of the royal family, in order of precedence: first to Virender, then to Mielu, Sybilla, and Kendappa. Ashura took the cup back, refilled it, and handed it to Fai. He watched carefully, ready to help if Fai had difficulty with its weight. The previous year, his son had needed a little assistance with the unwieldy vessel, but Fai had grown since then. This year he had no problems. Fai swallowed twice, and then gave the cup to Suhail.

While the ceremonial cup passed among the court wizards and the royal council, more servants paraded additional cauldrons to the tables. From these the diners filled their own cups and drank deeply.

Ashura spoke again: "My friends, my countrymen, let us celebrate this last, long dark, and take heart in the promise of new light, new hope, new joy. Drink, and eat, and revel in living!"

He and the royal family returned to their seats on the dais, and the feast began. Servants brought in many dishes, as sumptuous and varied as had been presented during King Ukko's visit, but for this feast all the food was Seresian. The cooks outdid themselves with luxurious, complex recipes and elaborate edible decorations. Many of the dishes were spectacular works of art, and it was almost a shame to break them up and eat them. Almost.

There was even an ornate punchbowl cleverly designed as a fountain, wheeled out to the court on a cloth-covered cart. As Luval remained frozen all year round, fountains did not feature in any of its ornamentation. A royal ancestor with a whimsical—or maybe perverse—sense of humor had once tried incorporating one in a minor courtyard, with predictable results. By all accounts, the frozen layers of water that were created had been pretty enough, but the fountain had not served its intended purpose and had later been removed by more practical members of the family.

The punchbowl was far more successful. It was composed of graduated tiers rising up from a large basin. From the top spilled glittering rivulets of red wine. The drink cascaded down the tiers to collect in the basin at the bottom. Somehow, the wine then recirculated to the top. Ashura suspected magic in its construction, but couldn't detect the source. He commented on it, expressing his curiosity about its workings.

Looking smug, Fai told him, "There's no magic at all in it. I saw the cooks make it. One of them, Master Tirel, also likes to dabble with clocks and gears. He created a pump with a spring-based mechanism that you wind up. That's what makes the wine circulate. If no one rewinds the mechanism, eventually the fountain will stop working."

"Oh? How interesting," Ashura said.

"If you keep watching, once the flow of wine starts to slow down, you'll see a servant come and work at something underneath that cloth. That's where the windup mechanism and pump are. You want to see? I can show you."

"Later, after the feast," Ashura replied. "You can take me to the kitchens and show me then. It would be a shame to expose the mechanisms now and spoil the illusion for everyone."

"That wouldn't be very nice," Fai agreed. "I like the fountain. It's pretty."

"Indeed it is."

Between certain important courses, the court bards and poets recited long, epic sagas and legends of winter and the solstice. It was a traditional part of the festivities to recall the mythology about the turning of winter, but Ashura's eyes always glazed over whenever bards chanted and pontificated. It had never been his favorite part of the final feast.

The rest of the time, musicians played quiet background tunes, which provided ambiance and could be ignored by the gabbling courtiers.

The sun was long gone by the time the final course had been served and removed. Torches, candles, and magelights held the darkness at bay, casting warm, golden light throughout the Hall. While the servants cleared the tables and prepared for nighttime diversions, Ashura and the rest of the court withdrew to dress in warmer garments for the lighting ceremony.

Shortly thereafter, fortified by food and drink and snuggled into cozy furs and woolens, the court braved the freezing temperatures outdoors and gathered on the castle walls. The mages took care to spread out among the crowds.

The non-magicians carried sky lanterns: Small hot air balloons made of translucent paper held open at the base with a thin wire collar. From the collar was suspended a packet of paraffin. The lanterns came in every color of the rainbow. Some even incorporated narrow, glittering strips of foiled paper to catch the light. They varied in size, from those that could be handled by one person, to enormous creations that required teams of two or more to control and launch them.

No moon or stars were visible in the night sky, their celestial light smothered by thick clouds, but the castle's luminous wings glowed softly and brightened the darkness for those within their embrace.

Servants carried candles among the participants, lighting the paraffin of the lanterns. The mages conjured magelights, which they held in their hands. Next to Ashura, Fai jittered with excitement. "Now?" he asked, preparing his own magelight.

"Patience, Fai," Ashura murmured.   "We must wait until everyone is ready." Fai's first encounter with the lighting ceremony had been the previous year's winter festival, and he had adored seeing the sky full of lights both magical and mundane. What was not to like? It certainly was Ashura's favorite part. Children weren't alone in their love of Lighting the Night at midwinter.

When most of the lanterns had been lit and their paper balloons swelled with hot air, Ashura raised a hand and conjured deep, bell-like tones that rang throughout the mountains. Nine peals, the most sacred and important number in Seresian mysticism. The number nine played a role in many of the country's festivals and beliefs.

Before the last tone finished ringing, Ashura created an enormous ball of blue and white light, and set it soaring overhead. On that signal, everyone released their own lanterns and magelights. Multitudes of lights drifted upwards, dancing gracefully through the air in glorious, illuminated colors. The magelights created by wizards and magicians wove their own patterns, highly choreographed and controlled. They darted among the sky lanterns, scintillating and pulsing according to their creators' fancies.

Fai's magelight was the largest of all. It contained every color imaginable, and shot above the rest. When it surmounted all the others, it burst into a display of sparkling, crackling fireworks. Unlike ordinary fireworks, Fai's display did not end. The scintillating flowers of exploding fire went on and on and on, a glittering, multihued backdrop for the glorious sea of lights that filled the heavenly firmament.

"What a show off," Ashura said to Fai, grinning.

Fai's eyes gleamed in the light. "You're just jealous 'cause mine's the best," he boasted.

"True, true," Ashura agreed, pleased to see his son in such high spirits, especially after Fai's recent depressive episode. The sky lanterns and magelights reminded him of the lights sent skyward at the conclusion of Fai's investiture with his D title. There were many more lights this night, but as far as Ashura was concerned, they were of far less significance.

Ashura directed his massive magelight up among Fai's fireworks, and set it to spinning and shooting off sparks. Other mages took up the theme, creating bursts of light and color.

Far off, a soft glow hovered above Luval Town, as the townsfolk gathered about their bonfire and set free their own masses of sky lanterns. All over Seresu, people would be lighting the night, celebrating midwinter and welcoming the return of longer days.

* * *

 

 

_Author's Note: And that concludes Part IV: Winter's Bright Light. Whew, what a relief. You know, if this weren't a WIP I'd probably have cut at least a quarter of it (and done a better job of editing what was left)._

_And now, on to the home stretch..._


	42. V: A Featherlight Burden

**V: A Featherlight Burden**

 

Exquisitely fine porcelain clinked as Ashura set his teacup on its saucer. He relaxed into his cushioned, high-backed chair, basking in the warm, summer sunlight streaming in through the diamond pane windows of the cozy parlor. Outside, the gentle green hills rolled endlessly, covered with lush grass and brilliant wildflowers. The sun shone in a soft, blue sky dotted with puffy white clouds.

Across the intimate, round table, blonde hair glowed in the sunbeams. His wife, Luonnotar, lifted the dainty teapot and refreshed her cup. After taking a ladylike sip, she commented, "You see? I told you everything would be fine."

"Yes," Ashura replied, as though he had any idea what she was talking about.

"Fai?" she asked the young boy sitting between them. "Would you like me to refresh your cup?" She nodded at the teapot.

"Please," little Fai said.

With practiced elegance, Luonnotar poured Fai more hot, steaming tea. He added a few scoops of sugar with a silver teaspoon.

"Fai," she chided. "Not so much sugar."

"But it's so nice and sweet," he cajoled, batting big, blue eyes at her.

"Three teaspoons is enough."

Fai heaved a dramatic sigh. "Okay."

Ashura smiled, relaxed and comfortable. He took a pastry from a silver platter and munched in contentment. No one had changed a bit. Luonnotar was as beautiful as ever, and Fai was still seven years old. The summery land outside was pleasant, without hardship or strife. Life was easy. Everything was lovely.

Luonnotar sighed and commented, "A pity this can't last forever."

"Why can't it?" Ashura asked. "I have nothing better to do."

"Oh, but you do." She cradled her teacup in both hands and gazed into the amber liquid. Her lips curved into a wistful smile.

"I do?" He supposed she was talking about his responsibilities as King of Seresu, but Seresu and kingship were far, far away. So distant, like a dream of another life. They weren't real. This was real. Luonnotar and Fai were the only things real, them and the land of endless summer. His mind drifted.

They all sat together for a spell, enjoying the quiet serenity of the afternoon tea.

Little Fai said, "It's almost perfect." A shadow of resignation passed across his expressive face.

"Almost?" Ashura queried.

"I wish we could have all really been together, even just for a little while. It would have been so nice with all of us."

Now that Ashura thought about it, Fai was right. This paradise seemed incomplete. Something was missing. Something, or someone...

"Yes, it is a shame the transmigration was interrupted so badly," Luonnotar said to Fai. "But that is the way things must be."

"Transmigration?" Ashura asked, confused. "Of whose soul?"

"Souls," Luonnotar corrected him. "Two souls, bound together. Reflections of one another, intertwined as one, perhaps created as one."

Little Fai reached out and took Ashura's hand. He patted it gently.

Luonnotar said, "You've known all along, Ashura. Deep down inside, you've understood the truth."

"Truth?" Something stirred in the hidden depths of Ashura's heart. Something sad, and painful. He didn't like the direction the conversation had taken.

"Babies are stillborn because they have no souls. Their souls and their bodies were prevented from coming together at the right time. A body with no soul is nothing more than a shell, incapable of true life."

Memory teased, terrible memory, and Ashura pushed it away. "Don't tell me you believe that old myth."

"The Völur say it's true."

"The Völur say many things." But he had never known them to utter falsehoods. He felt himself growing agitated.

Fai stroked Ashura's hand, attempting to soothe and comfort him. "It's all right," the little one told him. "I shouldn't have said anything. I know it has to be this way."

Ashura stared at Luonnotar, willing her to give him a straight answer. "What truth do you say I've always known?"

She smiled, a melancholy expression, and petted Fai's soft, blond hair. "That Fai and Yūi are ours."

"Well, of course they are," Ashura said, and hesitated. One of the twins was missing. Fai was here. Fai was seven years old, the same age the twins had been when he'd brought them to Seresu. That meant the one who was missing...

"They were always meant to be ours, but that timeless place was too cruel. They were delayed too long."

Ashura gazed at Fai, understanding who he was. "Fai?" he breathed. "The transmigration of souls."

"Yes," said Luonnotar.

"Two souls, bound together," Ashura murmured. "Twins."

"Our boys," his dead wife confirmed.

Ashura felt all the energy rush out of him. He collapsed back in his chair. The comfortable surroundings wavered. Only Fai's firm grip on his hand kept him anchored in the summer land. The parlor stabilized, but frost glistened on the walls.

"I don't want to remember," he said. Didn't want to remember Luonnotar's death when she had birthed stillborn twin boys, so many years ago. Fai and Yūi would have still been trapped and suffering in their timeless Valerian prison when that horrible event had taken place. Tears stung his eyes.

"I know," Luonnotar said. Her blue eyes overflowed with sympathy. "But life must go on, for the living."

"For the living..." Ashura echoed hollowly.

Little Fai said, "It worked out as best it could."

"Yes," Luonnotar said, gazing fondly at her living husband and her dead son. "Now they are with us, as they always should have been. We take our blessings as they come."

Snowflakes drifted down, settling on the floor and furnishings. Beyond the windows, the sun's golden rays warmed the eternally green land. Ashura's tea steamed in its porcelain cup. His throat closed.

"Yūi is well," he told little Fai. "But he misses you very much."

"I know. I miss him, too," said Fai.

"He's growing up, and he's become a great wizard. He's learning to be a warrior, and also a clever thinker and planner. He will have many skills when he matures," Ashura said. Fai smiled. It was a lovely expression. Ashura thought Yūi would look just as enchanting, should he one day learn to smile as beautifully as his deceased brother.

Encouraged, Ashura continued, "I've a plan to save him from his curses. I'm doing my best to make certain he will lead a long life." Even if it means he will despise me for the rest of that long life, Ashura thought, but couldn't bear to mention that painful fear, nor to disclose the horrible details of his desperate and monstrous scheme. He couldn't speak of it, not to his late wife, and especially not to Yūi's twin.

"We worry about him," said Fai. "We worry about you both."

Luonnotar nodded her agreement. "You and he have such difficult destinies, but when you fulfill them, we will be waiting."

Ashura trembled. He didn't deserve their kindness, not now, not ever, yet he basked in it, in their gentle understanding.

The snow fell harder, the flakes so large and thick that they obscured Luonnotar and Fai's features. Warmth turned to freezing cold. Fai released Ashura's hand, and Ashura felt a loss so profound his soul shriveled. "I don't want to go," he protested, "but I can't leave Yūi all alone. And yet, someday I..." He couldn't finish.

"Life must be lived, and the bitter accepted with the better," Luonnotar told him, her voice sounding far away as the snow fell and the world turned pure white. "You and Yūi—take care of—" and the thick snow swallowed the rest of her words.

Ashura blinked open his eyes. His bedchamber was dark. The bed curtains had been left open, and the low coals still glowing in the hearth provided only a dim, reddish illumination. He rubbed his face with one hand.

"I'm sorry you're gone again," he said quietly to the darkness. He knew what Luonnotar's final words would have been. "I’m sorry I never really met you, Fai. Your brother Yūi, he took your name after you passed...did you know that? I promise, I will take care of him. We will take care of each other, until the end."

He didn't know if the dream had been a true vision, or just a comforting fantasy conjured by his sleeping mind. It didn't matter. He loved Luonnotar and Fai just the same. He loved Yūi. They would always be his, as he was theirs. And someday, someday they would all meet again, in the green land of eternal summer...

A warm form shifted under the covers. He turned his head and looked over at the woman lying beside him. Darja. She slept quietly, untroubled by any dreams.

Perhaps it was time to end the affair. He didn't need her, not with the warm memory of Luonnotar and Fai so close. Darja, like all his paramours, was just a crutch, someone to hold during the long nights that otherwise felt so empty and frightening. There was good reason none of his mistresses had ever been blonde.

Ashura got out of bed and drew on a bed robe. Darja didn't stir. He slipped his feet into a pair of warm, furred slippers and, without another glance at his bedmate, he left his quarters.

As he walked to Fai's closed door, he nodded to the guards standing watch in the hall, and could have sworn he heard one of them sigh. That amused him. It had been a long time since he'd stalked the castle halls at night to avoid sleep and dreams, but his guards remembered.

The interior of Fai's quarters was dark and silent. The poor child had finally put most of his recent fear of the dark behind him, no longer filling his rooms with magelights nor needing company at night. Ashura conjured a small, pale light, just enough so that he didn't stumble as he went to the bedchamber. He eased open the door.

Fai might no longer light his rooms as bright as day during the nighttime hours, but he still needed a little light while he slept. He had created one tiny magelight and set it in a corner of the ceiling to stand against the darkness. Ashura felt a pang of sympathy. He understood well the need to hold back the night. He banished his own light, relying instead on Fai's as he made his way to the bedside and parted the curtains.

Fai slept peacefully, his small chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths. He looked so innocent and sweet that Ashura felt his heart crack a little. He bent and carefully rearranged the covers over his son, tugging them up and smoothing a few wrinkles. He straightened and gazed down at his blessed child for long moments, still half caught by his dream, by his conversation with Fai's twin and Luonnotar. He hoped the dream had been true. He wanted it to be true, so very desperately that he couldn't trust his own instincts.

"The boys take after you," he told his long dead wife, very quietly so as not to disturb Fai's slumber. He recalled his own observation that his Fai could easily pass as King Ukko's son. Luonnotar's coloring was like her brother's; she had been blue eyed and golden haired. Like Fai, like Yūi. "Was that mere coincidence?"

The gods could be quite cruel, even when they were kind.

 


	43. Chapter 43

Darja took the breakup well, but Ashura had always known her heart wasn't involved. That she had bestowed upon her husband, Lord Matas. To her, Ashura was an enjoyable diversion, a means to advancement, and a source of bragging rights. Her attitude troubled Ashura not at all. She had viewed the affair as a convenience, and so had he. Through her relationship with him, she and Matas had gained wealth and influence.

Not that he blamed her for mercenary motives. Such was the usual expectation of an affair with him, which was why many husbands were pleased to discover their wives had caught Ashura's eye. Nor did Ashura underestimate his own attractions or bother with any tiresome false modesty. He knew quite well he was comely, wealthy, and powerful—all tremendous aphrodisiacs. He was the king, the pinnacle of power and status in Seresu. Naturally, many women and even a few men cast themselves in his way. He picked and chose as he wanted from the willing. He never forced or pressured his partners, and assumed they understood that the relationship, while profitable for them, would be temporary.

Of greater surprise to him was Taishakuten's reaction to the affair's end. Ashura encountered the Lord of the Southlands while passing through the Great Hall.

"My lord king, may I ask what Lady Darja has done to displease you?" Taishakuten asked after his typical sweeping genuflection and flowery greeting.

"Nothing," Ashura said simply. He was not surprised that the news was already afoot. Gossip spread like wildfire in his court. One overheard whisper, and a secret became common knowledge. Even had there been no gossip, Matas would surely have informed his liege lord of the change in status between Darja and the king.

"Perhaps her husband has offended in some way, then?"

"No, Lord Matas has been an exemplary subject. He has served me well since coming to court." Ashura tilted his head and directed a questioning eye at Taishakuten. "Why do you assume I am displeased with either of them?" Not that he expected Taishakuten to be honest.

He was not disappointed in that expectation.

"I am merely concerned that my vassals might have upset Your Majesty," Taishakuten said smoothly.

More likely, he was concerned with how their behavior would reflect upon him. Ashura smiled placidly at him, keeping his cynicism hidden. It was a reasonable concern, considering their respective positions, but unnecessary. Ashura hadn't given the matter much thought at all. He had parted with Darja amicably, even gifting her with an excellent set of jewels in thanks for her service and her good behavior. In return, she had given him an engraved topaz ring as a token to remember her by. He had no plans to terminate Matas's service to him over such a trivial event as the end of a casual affair with the man's wife. There had been no drama except in Taishakuten's head.

Taishakuten added, "It is my greatest desire and honor to continue to enjoy Your Majesty's esteem."

I'm sure it is, Ashura thought. Aloud he said, "Of course, my lord," and nodded pleasantly.

Something indecipherable flickered in Taishakuten's eyes, but he said, "Thank you, Majesty."

"How goes Fai's training?" Ashura asked, to show that Taishakuten's status had not changed simply because Ashura would no longer be sleeping with Lady Darja. It seemed odd to him that Taishakuten of all people would need reassurance, but it cost Ashura nothing to provide it.

The new topic proved efficacious in redirecting Taishakuten's conversation. "Oh, very well, Majesty. As you know, the Lord Wizard Fai shows great promise in most forms of armed and unarmed combat." He warmed to the subject, expounding at length on Fai's abilities and quickness of mind. He talked of new techniques Fai was learning with long and short staves, with knives, with various throwing implements, and of Fai's speed and acrobatic talents.

"And his sword training?" Ashura kept a perfectly straight face as he asked the provocative question. He enjoyed hearing about how wonderful Fai was, but no one was good at everything. Fai's sword training was a source of irritation to everyone who had ever served as either weapons tutor or sparring partner.

Taishakuten had managed to break through Fai's peculiar reluctance with swords, but even so the child rarely displayed much enthusiasm. It was clear Fai would never pick up a sword in any but the direst of situations. Even then it would be only a last resort, chosen if combat magic was not an option and no other weapons were available. Fai preferred avoidance when it came to swords: he was excellent at dodging, so good that he seemed almost as insubstantial a target as mist. Ashura knew well the frustration generated by Fai's unwillingness to initiate an attack, or even to block a strike, when he could lightly move out of the way.

That tendency could easily frustrate an attacker into making unwise moves, and so was useful. Fai often used it to good effect. He could hold position until the last minute, then in an instant shift just enough so that the sword only cut air. At that point, the attacker was committed, and Fai could counter however he wished.

What a shame that he rarely bothered countering at all, and instead simply continued moving. At least he had good physical endurance.

With such skill, were Fai willing to use his sword as it was intended he could effortlessly end a duel with a single strike. Ashura hoped that Fai might at least become grounded in the basics of actual sword combat. There were many kinds of swords. Maybe Fai might one day find a type of sword that suited him.

Maybe.

To his credit, Taishakuten did not even twitch at the question. "As Your Majesty knows, the young Lord Wizard is not fond of that aspect of his training," he said smoothly. "We are continuing to work on it, and have made some progress. However, his skill at archery is coming along quite nicely."

Ashura smiled benignly at the swiftness with which Taishakuten changed the subject to a more acceptable form of martial training. Fai must have been especially trying lately.

While Taishakuten found new ways to praise Fai's skill with a bow, Ashura pondered what he should do with his liegeman now that the winter festival was over. Two weeks had passed since its end, and many of the noble guests had said their goodbyes and departed. Ashura wondered if Taishakuten expected to take his entourage home soon. If so, he gave no indication of it. For all Ashura could tell, Taishakuten was perfectly content to remain in Luval.

This state of affairs suited Ashura well. The overseers he had left in the Southlands reported that things were finally settling down in Spou and on the border. The Arimaspi were still resentful, but no longer openly rebellious. The new policies were having a good effect. The conquered Arimaspi continued under martial law, but aside from that were receiving better treatment. The holiday had helped to improve everyone's mood, of course, but Taishakuten's extended absence had probably been a factor, as well. It seemed too soon to allow Taishakuten to return to his own lands.

Also, Taishakuten served as an excellent martial tutor for Fai. No one else had been able to break through Fai's mental blocks against using a sword offensively. Granted, Taishakuten's tactics had been outrageous and almost on the wrong side of a treason charge, and Ashura had ordered that they not be repeated. But they had worked.

Beyond swordsmanship, Taishakuten was renowned as one of the best warriors in the entire country, and Fai could have no better tutor in all forms of fighting and warfare. Not to mention casual ruthlessness. Ashura hated to give up such an effective teacher for his son. Eventually, though, he would have to send Taishakuten home. The Lord of the Southlands needed to spend much of his time actually governing the Southlands.

Taishakuten did not like magical travel or communications. He had made quite clear that he despised them, so would be difficult to coax back to Luval for the sole purpose of training Fai. Commuting magically between Luval and the Southlands just to spend a few hours teaching Fai warcraft would not suit Taishakuten in the least. Ashura could always make it a command, but preferred not to aggravate one of the most powerful magnates in Seresu.

No, Ashura would instead sweeten the pot with an offer he knew Lord Taishakuten would not refuse. The warlord had been hinting for a long time that he would like a closer relationship with the royal court. So be it.

Ashura decided to appoint Taishakuten to a seat on the Council of Nobles. It would suit the warlord's ego, and also Ashura's own plans for Fai. A council seat would serve well as bait. Taishakuten would never turn down the appointment, and thus be forced to accept the necessity of routine teleportation.

Additionally, tensions with Arimaspea had been simmering ever since the assassination attempt against Ashura. A formal complaint had been lodged with King Skudra—delivered not by any official Seresian messengers, but rather through a series of third parties until it was finally passed into Arimaspea's own messenger system. An Arimaspi, probably a nobleman, would have ultimately delivered it to Skudra.

Ashura had no doubt that the complaint had been laughed out of the Arimaspi king's court.

Another war was coming, and Ashura intended to control its timing and location. Appointing the Lord of the Southlands, who had the most experience fighting the Arimaspi, to the Council of Nobles was a pragmatic thing to do. No one would question Ashura's motives for doing so.

"My lord Taishakuten—" he began.

"Give that back!" a shout of adolescent fury interrupted.

Virender and Mielu burst into the Hall, with Tancred hard on their heels. Virender waved a piece of paper over his head in a teasing fashion. Mielu laughed as she followed Virender, the pair dodging between startled courtiers and servants.

"Tancred's in looove! Tancred's in looove!" Mielu sang out gaily.

"You brats!" Tancred yelled angrily. He snatched at the paper in Virender's hands but missed. The trio raced about the Great Hall making nuisances of themselves.

Ashura looked about, but didn't see Fai anywhere. He had half expected that Fai might have been the instigator of the little drama, but Fai was nowhere in evidence. That was a shame. Fai had been too serious and quiet of late. He still hadn't fully shaken off his depression from being reminded of his mother during the winter festival. Ashura rather hoped that Fai might recover and return to his troublemaking ways, but it was probably still too soon.

Virender ran up the dais stairs. He struck a pose before the central, most ornate chair—the one reserved for Ashura—and started reading in a loud voice, "To my dearest Kyllikki, greetings and felicitations from your betrothed husband—"

"You stop that!" Tancred howled, interrupting the recitation.

Virender jeered at his elder brother. "So formal! I hope it gets gushier later!"

Mielu darted close to Tancred, poked him in the arm, and dashed away when he grabbed for her. She cackled. "It's only been two weeks since she was here! You must miss her sooooo much!"

"You're both snotty, poxy rats!" Tancred yelled at them. "I'll tell Mother, and you'll be in big trouble!"

"Gonna tell Mother you're writing love letters?" Virender sniggered and looked back at the letter. "My sweet princess, your golden hair outshines the sun, and your eyes are bluer than the clear, bright skies of summer—"

"I'm taking that back!" Tancred sprinted up the dais steps. Virender jumped back down to the floor before Tancred could reach him. He and Mielu joined up again to run in a circle around their furious brother, then scampered back up the dais.

Tancred let out an inarticulate shout of pure rage. Unfortunately, he followed up with a fireball. Courtiers scattered, scrambling to stay out of the way.

Up until that moment, Ashura had been watching with patience that was both weary and amused. Quite familiar with tantrums from young magicians, he had also made ready to intervene, just in case. His preparations had not been in vain. At the first sign of magical violence, he threw out a shield bubble to encase and make harmless the fiery burst of adolescent frustration.

"That's enough, Tancred!" he snapped, putting out the fire and dismissing his bubble. "You are old enough to control your temper!"

Everyone present went silent. Most pulled far away from the miscreants and their disapproving king, and sidled along the walls, out of range, or removed themselves from the Hall entirely. Tancred stood stock still, looking a little shocked. "Um, I didn't mean—" he began.

"Be silent," Ashura said in a flat, calm, dispassionate tone guaranteed to frighten his nephew. Tancred subsided, staring down at his toes. Ashura directed his attention to Tancred's siblings, who were hiding behind the chairs on the dais.

This kind of teasing was routine among Sybilla's children. The three often found creative ways to torment one another. It seemed that Tancred was the victim this time, but no matter which child had started it, Ashura now had to deal with all the troublemakers who had taken it too far. "You two, come here," Ashura ordered, still in that implacable, unreasonably reasonable tone of voice. "Right now."

Heads drooping and dragging their feet, Virender and Mielu complied. They stood before Ashura, twin images of contrition.

Ashura held out his hand. "Give it here."

He didn't need to specify what "it" was. Virender passed over Tancred's letter to Kyllikki. Ashura took it and folded it without looking at the contents. Next to him, Taishakuten made a peculiar noise that sounded like a strangled snort. Ashura didn't take his eyes off his niece and nephews.

"You know better than to create this kind of disturbance in the Great Hall," he lectured sternly, his gaze taking in all three of his young relatives. "You certainly know better than to indiscriminately cast dangerous magic spells among so many people in an enclosed space. Your mother shall be informed of your misbehavior, and your lack of decorum and common sense. You shall all receive fitting punishments. You two," he eyed Mielu and Virender, "are not to meddle any more with your brother. No more teasing. In addition, you are forbidden from using any magic for one week. Should you disobey, I will be quite angry and will see to it that you receive a most unpleasant punishment. You will return immediately to your quarters. You are to remain there, without further amusements, until your mother arrives to deal with you as she sees fit. I do not doubt that she will lay her own discipline upon you."

The two children gasped and looked ready to protest. Ashura cut them off, saying, "Do not add to your bad behavior and increase your punishment." Both mouths closed abruptly. Ashura told them, "Now go," and watched as they hustled out of the Hall.

He turned to Tancred and held out the letter. "I believe this is yours," he said mildly.

"Thank you, Uncle," Tancred mumbled, taking the letter and tucking it into a hiding spot in his clothes.

"Don't thank me yet," Ashura warned him. "You must realize that your childish outburst could have caused damage and even injuries. That fireball was most unwise. You have had years of training and by now should be able to moderate your reactions, if not your temper. You should be ashamed of your lack of control."

"I'm sorry," came the tiny apology.

"Sorry isn't good enough," Ashura informed him. "You are the heir to the throne of Seresu, will soon be married to a princess of Lintukoto, and are expected to behave as an adult. You must learn to comport yourself with dignity and maturity. Barring that," he added, "you should learn to exercise better self-control, at least in public."

"But Virender and Mielu—"

"You think you should behave like a pair of silly children? Virender is eleven years old. Do you wish to be treated like an eleven-year-old?"

Tancred's shoulders slumped. He toed the floor. "No, Uncle." He straightened and looked up. "What is to be my punishment, Your Majesty? No matter what it is, I promise to bear it without complaint."

Tancred was a good boy, Ashura thought, even if his siblings did sometimes drive him to the edge of madness. His young age and his infatuation with Kyllikki only made him touchier and more vulnerable to their teasing. The awkward, teenage years when a boy grew into a man were always trying. Still, Ashura could not let him go undisciplined. All the offending parties should be punished, and Tancred could have caused great harm.

"Like your siblings, you are restricted in your use of magic for one week," Ashura told him. "However, unlike them, you may cast spells for reason of defense. I do not mean you should use magic to defend yourself from torments devised by your brother and sister. Only if you fear for your life, or someone else's, or to avert great harm, may you use magic. There should be no call for such, as you also are not to leave the confines of Luval Castle for the duration."

"But what if Virender and Mielu disobey your orders and play sneaky magic tricks on me?" Tancred protested.

"They had better not," Ashura growled. "I have already forbidden them from using magic. If they do, come to me and I will deal with them. Do not consider it tale-bearing. It is my command. They will also be informed of this decision, so they will know not to inflict mischief upon you during your punishment." He didn't plan to trust to Tancred or the children, but rather would warn their mother and tutors of his orders. Any disobedience would be dealt with quickly and strictly. "Now, like Virender and Mielu, you must also await your mother's displeasure. However, I do not require you to spend more time with your brother and sister, nor do I think it a good idea until tempers have cooled. You shall isolate yourself in my quarters. You may not appear in court again this day."

Tancred covered his wince with a formal bow, straightened and turned to leave.

"Tancred," Ashura added, "do not compound your errors. Stay away from your brother and sister until after your mother has her say."

"Yes, Uncle, I will obey," Tancred agreed, decidedly subdued, and trudged off.

Ashura assumed his nephew would spend the next few hours sulking.

Taishakuten finally let loose a bark of laughter. Ashura rounded on him, asking, "You have something to say, my lord?"

"Only that things are never boring in Luval." Taishakuten chortled. "My own court is never so lively, but then, I have no mage-children to contend with inside Vasara. I need not tolerate mischief, magical or otherwise, from either children or adults."

"How dull for you." What a dreadful way to live, Ashura thought. Despite the chaos and frustration they could generate, magic and children brought great joy. Together, they were, well, magic. Ashura couldn't help smiling at the thought.

Taishakuten laughed again. "No one has such a large concentration of magicians in one place as you, Majesty. They are quite scarce. You take magic for granted, but really, it's a rare commodity outside Luval."

"And children?" Ashura asked impishly.

"In Vasara, they know their place. Their tutors and caretakers keep them under control, especially when in my presence."

"Ah."

"It suits me," Taishakuten said with a slight shrug.

"You will grow accustomed to the disorder of children and magic."

"That hardly seems likely."

"On the contrary, it is a certainty, my lord." Ashura laughed at Taishakuten's perplexed expression.

 


	44. Chapter 44

To his captive audience in the royal council chambers, Vainamoinen droned on and on about the rebuilding of Nadenda. He spoke at length of what types of buildings should be constructed, what kinds of physical barricades might be most effective to guard against another avalanche, on the need for decent wages to entice new workers to the mine, how to provision the rebuilt town until it gained some self-sufficiency. Much research had been done, because the mine at Nadenda was a good source of iron, a valuable resource for the country. Iron was used not only in the production of steel for implements of war, but also to create farming and building tools, and an enormous supply of everyday items essential for civilized life. Such disparate items as cooking utensils, horseshoes, needles and pins for sewing, and wrought candlesticks were all made from iron. Iron's uses were wide and varied, the list of necessities created from it endless. The Seresian economy depended upon it.

Tancred shifted in his seat on Ashura's right. The boy let out a soft, bored sigh and fidgeted, fingers twisting in his clothes under the table.

Ashura didn't really blame Tancred for his ennui. Royal council meetings often tended to be dry affairs, full of politics and dull discussions about crop yield, bread policies, finances for sewer maintenance, and other trivia of everyday governance. Debates on subjects like the taxation of mine output or the monies needed for warehouse construction and road repair could be nothing but uninteresting to a fifteen-year-old, but as Ashura's heir, Tancred had to learn.

Tancred might never become king, but in the years until Seresu's destruction he would function in many official capacities and take on leadership roles. He would be called upon to serve as temporary regent should Ashura be away or indisposed. Tancred needed to learn statecraft, and so Ashura had started requiring him to attend all meetings of the Council of Nobles.

Tancred was not the only bored attendee. Farther down the table, Taishakuten rested his chin on one fist, his face wearing an expression that could only be described as dazed. His Lordship looked like he could barely keep his eyes from crossing.

Ashura wondered what Taishakuten had expected. Life wasn't all war and glory. Being the ruler of a large, important territory, he should be accustomed to the less exciting matters of governance. Perhaps he delegated the boring parts to his underlings. Ashura did, too, but he made a point of keeping abreast of what they were doing. While Ashura didn't plan to oversee the rebuilding of Nadenda personally, he was the ultimate authority for everything involved—the funds, the supplies, the workmen, and all other matters necessary for the building project. He needed to understand the requisitions he would be asked to sign.

Perhaps Taishakuten had imagined a royal council meeting to be similar to a Great Council: a massed assembly of all the nobility in the land, which was convened to discuss countrywide matters such as war, plague control and prevention, aversion of potential famines, special kingdom taxes, and the like. Great Councils were convened infrequently, and the topics were always of interest to all involved. Plans for rebuilding a mining town, however necessary, could seem trivial in comparison.

Once Vainamoinen concluded his presentation, the council wrangled for over an hour on the initial actions to take and money to spend. Then Ashura designated Lord Poaval as council overseer of the reconstruction efforts. Poaval ruled a mountain province with a large number of mines. He understood the complexities and potential stumbling blocks that would be involved. Additionally, he and Vainamoinen had a proven record of working together without too much friction. Ashura didn't delude himself that the enterprise would now proceed smoothly or easily. These kinds of projects always grew more complicated before they were completed, needing more money and resources, and then even more money and resources. This was only the beginning, but at least it was a good start.

Ashura dismissed his council. Tancred, he noted with amusement, was first out the door. Quite inappropriate behavior for a prince and the heir to the throne, but Ashura understood. As the other councilors filed out, Ashura stopped Suhail and Taishakuten. "My lords, a word, if you please." He shut the door for privacy.

Both men's eyes lit with curiosity. Suhail said, "Yes, Majesty?"

In answer, Ashura apported a small, polished wooden box into his hands. He opened the lid. Inside, cushioned with black velvet, lay the opal jewel he had had commissioned during the midwinter festival. He had requested that it be finished quickly, and the lapidaries had complied. The finished product's colorful hues shimmered against the velvet.

There was no outward difference between the carved and polished details of Ashura's opal and the talisman the assassin in Spou had used to hide himself. It was a near perfect duplicate, even in the way its internal rainbow flecks and patterns caught the light. The stone had been chosen to replicate the original as closely as possible. An expert who could compare it, side by side, with the Arimaspi gem would not be fooled, but a layman would never notice any difference.

The magic spells Ashura had laid upon his own gem, however, were much different.

There were four: The deepest, innermost spell, when activated simply by Skudra's presence, would produce not violence but rather a lot of graffiti. The emblem of Ashura's family, the interlaced Phoenix of Vanir, would be splashed in glowing white, blue, and black glory onto every wall, ceiling, floor, table—in fact, any flat surface—in whatever building Skudra was currently residing in. Even dishes and silverware could be affected if they were flat enough. Ashura had gone to extraordinary lengths and spent much of his private time at night during the festival making the spell's inner workings as devious, complex, and downright convoluted as he could. Skudra's indoctrinated mages would spend days, perhaps even weeks, figuring out how to solve the puzzle and remove the "decorations."

Over that spell lay one of the Arimaspi camouflage spells, deftly modified so that it would be all but undetectable to even the most skilled of wizards. Skudra wouldn't know about the graffiti spell until his oh-so-august presence activated it.

On top of that was a subtle, subliminal spell to influence all couriers of the opal. Not quite a curse, it was designed to make certain that the talisman would be delivered to Skudra in either his throne room or in public court in his primary castle. Ashura wanted his annoying retaliation to be witnessed by as many high-ranking Arimaspi nobles as possible.

Finally, the surface enchantment was a simple communication spell. In it Ashura had recorded a herald's stentorian tones speaking aloud the same formal complaint about the assassination attempt that had already been sent to Skudra's court. The spell served as a first layer of camouflage. Skudra and his court could laugh anew at the repeated protest—until the real spell took effect.

And that was when things would get interesting. Ashura had acquired a great deal of intelligence regarding the Arimaspi, some of it detailing Skudra's reactions to slights both real and imaginary. Skudra would want revenge, preferably violent. Ashura hoped he would be angry enough to lead an army to Seresu's border, which now included a good chunk of Arimaspea. Ashura grinned; he had designed the graffiti spell in such a way that he would know exactly when it was activated. He would know when to have his army waiting for Skudra.

After a cursory glance at the gem, Suhail looked sour. "Simple repetition of the formal complaint to King Skudra? Majesty, this isn't your usual—"

"Look closer," said Ashura. "Through all the layers. The top level is just a diversion."

Suhail threw him a suspicious look, then used magic to poke at the charm. He frowned in concentration as he pushed through spell after spell. A few moments later he burst out laughing.

"What's so funny about this opal?" Taishakuten asked, annoyed. "It should have been destroyed, Majesty. Why would you keep it like a memento?"

"It's just a copy, my lord," Ashura told him. "The original is still under study by the court wizards."

Suhail stopped laughing and shook his head reprovingly. "Majesty, I understand why you might want to bedevil Skudra, but this could result in war."

"Exactly," Ashura said with satisfaction. "Which is why I wanted your and Lord Taishakuten's opinions on it. Skudra will almost certainly attack our new southern border. I'm considering timing now. What do you think? When would be best to deploy it?"

"I assume there is some spell or curse upon this copy," said Taishakuten, "but I fail to see the humor—"

"Ah, my lord," said Suhail, "it's just an example of how manipulative His Exalted and Gracious Majesty can be." He threw an amused look at Ashura, who put on an offended expression. With laughter in his voice, Suhail explained the layers of spells to Taishakuten.

The Lord of the Southlands snorted. "Amusing, but blowing up Skudra would be far more satisfying than merely defacing some of his property."

"Killing Skudra would only put one of his heirs on the throne, and they are just as bad," Ashura said. "Can you imagine Crown Prince Davros and his wife Servalan as king and queen of Arimaspea? Or Princess Rani? She's even worse than her brother. They're a pretty vile family, and they're all intelligent and dangerous. I'd much rather drive Skudra into a blind rage, and on my own schedule. I hope the result is a nice, little border war, fought at our convenience." He grinned, showing teeth. "I'd like to own a little more of Arimaspea."

"A laudable goal," said Taishakuten approvingly. "But suppose Skudra does not respond with an attack upon our southern borders? Will you declare war anyway?"

"I'd rather let Skudra be perceived as the aggressor," Ashura told him. "That's the real point of my opal. If he doesn't cooperate and actually keeps his temper, well, I guess we'll just need to find another excuse." Ashura didn't really think that was likely, but one could never predict Skudra's behavior with absolute precision. A prophetic dream would be nice; alas, Ashura hadn't had any about Arimaspea. Besides, Ashura enjoyed his plan for frivolous revenge. He wanted to send the opal to Skudra anyway. It demonstrated the contempt he felt for Skudra, Davros, and their pathetic attempt at assassination.

"However entertaining, this subterfuge seems unnecessary and needlessly complicated," Suhail said.

Ashura appreciated that Suhail had not used the words "petty" or "unworthy," though he was certain the Lord Wizard had considered them. After all, it was petty, and Ashura was honest enough to admit—to himself, if no one else—that he enjoyed it for that very pettiness.

Suhail continued, "You are already the injured party. No one would blame you for simply declaring war after that assassination attempt, especially since Skudra never bothered to respond to your formal complaint. It is no different than the last war. You—and the Lord Wizard Fai—were the injured parties then, as well, and other rulers rallied in your favor."

"Agreed," said Taishakuten. "That, combined with the usual Arimaspi border raids and incursions, should be enough. We can always manufacture further evidence of their aggression if more is needed for international relations." He smiled with anticipation. "It will be pleasant to burn all of Arimaspea to the ground."

"I don't want it destroyed," Ashura said. "I just think the Arimaspi would be better off under my rule than Skudra's." He managed to deliver that line with a perfectly calm, positive expression. He didn't believe his two liegemen would approve of his real reason for desiring to acquire more territory and more subjects.

When had he changed? Not very long ago, he had not wanted to gather any more people under his rule. He hadn't wanted to conquer and add to his country's lands; he hadn't wanted to deliberately add potential murder victims to his reach. The mere idea had appalled him. He had felt enough guilt about the Seresian murders he already planned to commit, and hadn't wanted more.

He still felt guilt, but now...

Now Fai's salvation was more important than ever. It consumed him. Ever since his dream of Luonnotar, and the real Fai, and the land of endless summer.

Saving Fai meant exceeding Fai's power, bringing the boy's first curse to life—forcing Fai to kill him. Only in that way could Ashura free Fai from his second curse, the curse that would trap and destroy him. Just over the past few months, Fai had demonstrated exceptional power, more power than he'd displayed before—power Ashura would have to outstrip in order to save his son. Only by murdering more Seresians, by draining more Seresian lifeblood to gain power, could Ashura hope to achieve his aims.

He would conquer all of the Arimaspi, find a way to turn them into good Seresians—he would commit any sacrifice, any vile, despicable act, any, any at all—if it meant he could save Fai.

"Of course, Majesty," Taishakuten agreed in a wolfish tone. The warlord needed little reason to battle Arimaspi, and by his expression approved wholeheartedly of Ashura's schemes to start a new war and gain territory.

"I would like you two to consider this idea. You in particular, my lord, as you have the most experience fighting with the Arimaspi," Ashura said to Taishakuten. "I would like you to provide some suggestions as to the best time for me to send Skudra my little gift."

Taishakuten grinned. "Any time after the major crops are in and before next winter's snow gets too deep." He pretended to look thoughtful. "Actually, any time aside from deep winter suits me. Killing Arimaspi is a fine sport no matter the time of year. We needn't worry too much about our own crops as long as we fight the battles on the new border. If we push far enough into Arimaspea quickly enough, we'll only be destroying their towns and farms. Our people won't starve."

"I would prefer that any new lands we acquire not be damaged too badly," Ashura retorted, as starving and killing too many Arimaspi would interfere with his own long-term plans.

"It cannot be avoided. It is war," Taishakuten said with a callous shrug.

"So it is, but it costs a lot of money to rebuild and make ravaged lands profitable again. At any rate, give the timing some thought, and perhaps provide some preliminary strategies and battle plans. Do bear in mind that a scorched earth policy is not acceptable." Ashura turned to Suhail. "Would you please inspect the spells on the opal and let me know of any deficiencies? I'd like it to be as foolproof as possible." He closed the jewel box and handed it to his chief wizard.

"Yes, Majesty." Suhail bowed, looking resigned and disapproving. Belatedly, Taishakuten followed suit with his own bow.

"I'll expect discretion from you both. For now, this goes no farther than the three of us. I won't bring this up in council until after I have received and reviewed your reports. There's no rush." Ashura felt a tickle, a strange, barely-there sensation that touched his belly and the base of his skull. He instinctively looked about, but detected nothing beyond the presence of his two retainers.

"Majesty?" Taishakuten queried. "Is there a problem?"

"I thought I felt something," Ashura said with a frown. The brief sensation was gone. No trace lingered.

The council chambers were well shielded against magical eavesdropping. Had that peculiar tickle really been there? Had it just been an odd physical itch he had experienced? "Suhail, did you notice anything?"

The chief wizard shook his head. "Nothing, Majesty."

Ashura tried again, but still found nothing out of the ordinary in the room. "I guess I must have imagined it."

 


	45. Chapter 45

Fai was sulking.

After that rather disappointing conversation with Suhail and Taishakuten—why couldn't they appreciate a great joke that should also bring about a desired conflict?—Ashura had gone to Fai's quarters.

Working on magic with Fai always improved Ashura's mood. It helped him set aside other concerns and irritations. He intended to quiz Fai on his progress with the self-levitation spell. Fai was still working on it, and Ashura thought it odd that Fai had such difficulty with it. Perhaps Fai simply wanted to succeed too much. That could interfere with the natural flow of magic, and Ashura had hoped he could assist with any difficulties Fai was encountering. He still believed the spell might save Fai from the coming avalanche, but only if Fai internalized its workings and could use it on an instinctive level.

Fai was usually pleased whenever Ashura spent some dedicated time with him, but now he scowled ferociously. He stood with his arms folded across his chest and glared most foully.

It looked like a tantrum was imminent. Ashura wondered what had set Fai off. "Is there a problem, Fai?"

Fai's frown deepened. His gaze narrowed.

"Fai, I asked you a question."

Fai huffed, but didn't otherwise respond.

"By this silent treatment, I assume you are angry with me," Ashura said calmly. "However, I have no idea what I've done to upset you, and until you speak I will remain ignorant of the cause." The best way he had found to handle Fai's grouchy, sulky moods was to ignore them. Deprived of a target, Fai's emotions would eventually settle. Ashura turned to leave. "You may come find me when you're ready to act like a civilized human being again."

"You—!" Fai burst out.

Ashura turned back. "I?" he queried.

Fai stamped his foot. "Yes, you. How could you? You should have at least let me know!"

Ashura stayed calm. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm your Royal Wizard! I'm the King's Shield!"

"Yes, and—? Honestly, Fai, what ails you?"

"You do!"

"And I still don't know what you're talking about."

Fai stomped both feet a few times in a frustrated little march step. "Back in Spou, you said there could be a new war with Arimaspea."

"Yes," Ashura confirmed. "It is almost a certainty."

"You never said you'd start it!"

"Oh," was Ashura's startled response. His eyes widened. "You were spying on me in council?" he gasped out. That tickle he'd felt when he'd concluded his discussion with Taishakuten and Suhail—it had been a scrying spell of Fai's? Ashura had never recognized the source.

Normally, he'd be pleased with Fai's accomplishment. Fai had hidden his identity—and his snooping—with enviable skill, and managed to slip through the magical protections on the council chambers almost seamlessly. If not for his small lapse in control at the end, Ashura might never have experienced even that light tingle. Suhail hadn't noticed anything at all. Ashura thought the only reason he himself had felt anything was because of his connection to Fai.

However, at this particular moment, Ashura was not pleased.

He was furious.

"What were you doing, spying on me?" he demanded angrily. "How long has this been going on?"

"Why are you starting a war?" Fai threw back. His face flushed beet red. His chest heaved, and his hands clenched into fists.

"That's none of your business!"

"It is too my business!" Fai shrieked.

"It is not! You're just a child. How dare you spy upon me?" Ashura felt white heat crawling up behind his eyes. Ungrateful brat! Ashura was doing this for him! What was Fai thinking?

Ashura tried to check himself. Never mind Fai, what was he thinking? Fai couldn't know his reasons; Ashura wanted Fai ignorant of the real truth for as long as possible.

He could not stand here and argue with an irrational nine-year-old. He needed time to think. They both needed time, before Fai's temper escalated into a full-blown tantrum, and before Ashura said or did something he'd regret. He pivoted sharply. "We'll discuss this later," he flung over his shoulder, "after we've both calmed down, and after I've thought of a suitable punishment for your transgression."

Fai screamed inarticulately. Ashura barely had time to throw up a hasty shield before a surge of wild magic slammed into him. Despite his protection he still smacked backwards into a stone wall. Stunned, he dropped his shield and slid down heavily.

"No!" Fai cried. He rushed to Ashura's side. Tears ran from his eyes. "Oh, no," he sobbed. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry—"

Ashura sat on the floor, catching his breath. That blow had knocked the wind out of him, and he would have a few bruises, but otherwise knew himself to be unhurt. Shock was the worst of it. Fai had never done anything like this before; this was the first time he had directed his magical rage at Ashura. Suspicious moisture gathered in his own eyes, and he closed them. "Fai..." He didn't know what to say.

Fai huddled next to him, crying and clutching at Ashura's arms, his chest, his garments. "I didn't mean it—oh, I'm so sorry—I didn't mean to hurt you—I didn't—oh, please don't be hurt-please-be-all-right-pleasepleaseplease—"

Ashura lifted a shaky arm and wrapped it around his son. He took a deep breath, and decided to just let Fai cry it out.

The door flew open and two guards burst in. "Majesty, what's wrong? What happened?" one got out before stopping dead and gaping slack-jawed at the sight of the king sitting on the floor and holding his hysterically sobbing child in his arms.

Ashura blinked and stared up at his guards.

The other said, "Your Majesty, we heard a commotion. We thought— Well, we didn't know what to think. We heard shouting and a thump, and, well..." He tried again. "Are you and the Lord Wizard all right?"

All right? Neither he nor Fai was all right, but Ashura would not discuss private family disputes with his well-meaning guards. "Everything is fine," he told them. "There is no need for concern. Leave us and return to your duties."

The guards looked doubtful, but recognized an order when they heard one. Bowing, they slipped back outside, closing the door after them. Ashura had the presence of mind to put a magical barricade on the door to prevent it from being opened again.

He wondered what new gossip might spread from this incident, and decided there would be little to none. The guards had only heard an argument, had only seen a father comforting his upset child. The shouting they would put down to a tantrum on Fai's part. They would not realize what Fai had done. It would never even occur to them that Fai might assault their king in a burst of frustration. Ashura considered how lucky he and Fai had been that there were no eyewitnesses.

He forced himself to chuckle. It sounded false to his ears, but Fai was in no condition to recognize such subtleties. "And this," Ashura murmured to Fai while stroking his hair, "is an important reason why magical and emotional control are so important for magicians. I never want to hear you complain about lessons in control again."

Fai cried harder at his words.

 


	46. Chapter 46

Ashura sat on the floor with Fai, ignoring his own aches and waiting while Fai cried. The sobs went on and on and on. It seemed the child would never stop.

I am a terrible parent, Ashura thought. A good parent would have known what to do. A good parent would have prevented Fai's tantrum, or at least stopped it before it had reached the danger point. A good parent would know how to comfort a weeping child and make him feel better.

All Ashura could think to do was hold Fai, stroke his hair, and murmur soothing nonsense. It was all he had ever been able to do whenever Fai fell apart like this.

Finally, Fai's tears turned to sniffles, his shudders quieting to heavy breathing.

"Are you feeling better, Fai?" Ashura asked softly.

Fai looked up. His eyes were so bloodshot that the blue irises practically glowed against the vivid red surrounding them. Ashura overlooked the snot glistening under Fai's nose—which no doubt also liberally decorated his own clothing—and gently wiped some of the dampness from his cheeks.

At the touch, Fai looked like he might again burst into tears. He said in a trembling voice, "Are you all right? You—you're not hurt, are you?"

"Of course not," Ashura reassured him.

"But I—"

"You know this is not the first magical outburst I've encountered, Fai, and not only from you. Some wizards have actively tried to kill me on battlefields. This was nothing." The last wasn't exactly true, but he'd been quick enough to defend himself and, in any case, he wouldn't expire from a few bruises.

Fai hunched as though struck, dropping his head to rest his forehead against Ashura's side. "I'm so sorry."

"Ah, Fai," Ashura sighed. He kept his arm around Fai, and rubbed his back. "You just need more experience controlling your emotions."

"I'm such a burden."

Fai sounded so utterly tragic, his words might have been stolen from a cliché melodrama, but Ashura knew better. "No, Fai, that's not true."

"It is. It always has been. I've always been a burden to everyone around me. I should know better, but I keep forgetting. Ever since I came to Seresu I keep forgetting it. I'm a terrible burden to you."

"A featherlight burden, then," Ashura said to humor him. "Less burden than joy, just like any child. That is all. Honestly, Fai, I'm glad you forget to consider yourself anything out of the ordinary. You have always brought me great joy."

"I shouldn't," Fai said, finally wiping his nose clean with his sleeve. "I... Bad things always happen around me. My brother is dead..." his voice hitched, but he didn't cry again. "My father died... My mother, too...she's dead because of me."

"Fai, don't. That life is past. It's over."

"You just said I was more joy than burden, but...but I know you're just being nice. My mother...back in Valeria, she proclaimed to the entire court that her life held no joy because she gave birth to me and my brother..."

"Fai, stop." Ashura didn't want Fai to reopen these old wounds, but it seemed he could do nothing to prevent this new bleeding. Poor Fai was not yet over his emotional upset from the festival, and his mother's memory still lurked too close to the surface.

"Then she killed herself. She said that, she said that. No joy, because of us, her children. It was our fault—my fault." He shook, but again, no tears came.

Ashura took a deep breath and, without any guilt whatsoever, lied to his son. "Fai, she didn't really mean that. She was your mother, and she loved you. She loved both of you. She was just caught by the expectations and demands of Valeria's culture, laws, and belief system. She was probably also bound to certain forms of acceptable speech and behavior by her royal status."

Fai looked up at him with despair and hope. "Do you... Do you really think so?"

No, I don't, Ashura thought, but he didn't care about these lies as long as they made Fai feel better. "I do," he lied again. "You've seen for yourself that royalty is often constrained in ways the common folk are not, even here in Seresu. We don't have the same beliefs or laws as Valeria, but we of the royal family must conform in our own ways." At least that statement wasn't a lie.

"So my mother really loved us," Fai said with a hitch, "and it's...it's okay to love her back?"

Fai was so willing, nay, desperate, to believe... "Of course. She was your mother," Ashura said. He wondered if he was setting himself and Fai up for future heartbreak. Perhaps it would be better if Fai distanced himself from everything to do with Valeria. And yet, how could Ashura ask Fai to forget his mother? No matter how much contempt she deserved for her statements and her acts, it was best for Fai's mental health that he should remember his mother fondly.

Ashura, however, was under no such constraints. The more he learned about Fai's mother and the rest of her wretched kinfolk, the more he despised them. How despicable to commit suicide after casting the blame upon one's own children. And such very young children, at that.

"I'm glad," Fai said, snuggling into Ashura's side. "I do, you know. Love her, I mean, even though...even after what she said, what she di— Well, I'm glad it's okay with you. And...and thank you for explaining it. Why she said and did those things, I mean. It helps."

It was humbling to know how very much his own opinion mattered to his son. What if he had been truthful and discouraged Fai? Poor Fai would have been torn with guilt forever. Lies to children weren't always bad, especially when the child in question was as emotionally fragile as Fai.

Ashura gave Fai's shoulder a little squeeze. "It's no crime to love your parents, Fai. No one should ever tell you otherwise. If they do, just ignore them, or better yet, refer them to me." He uttered a small laugh. "I assure you, they will not speak so to you again."

"Would you have their tongues cut out?" Fai asked eagerly.

"Would you want me to?"

Fai actually thought about that. "No," he said finally. "No, I guess that wouldn't be very nice."

"No, it wouldn't be," Ashura said with a grin. "But, if you like, it can remain an option."

Fai stuck out his own tongue at Ashura.

"How inappropriate, considering the current topic of discussion," Ashura said, and teasingly made a fake grab for the offending tongue. Fai quickly withdrew it and shut his mouth tight.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, staying on the floor. Ashura took the time to consider Fai's tantrum and sense of guilt, and the argument that had precipitated both. He ventured, "Fai, why were you so upset about my going to war with Arimaspea? You didn't object last time."

Fai squirmed. Ashura tightened his arm about the boy, preventing him from moving away.

"Fai?"

Fai sighed. "I don't... Back then I was just a baby..."

You still are, Ashura thought fondly, but kept silent.

Fai said, "I didn't really understand what it meant, then."

"What do you think it means?" Ashura asked, curious about Fai's thoughts on the subject.

"Bad things happen in wars. People die in wars." Fai pressed closer. "You could d—you could get hurt in a war. I don't...don't want anything bad to happen to you. Not ever."

How right you are, Ashura thought, knowing that Fai feared not just for his safety, but for his very life. The child hadn't been able to speak of it aloud; poor Fai hadn't been able to utter the word "die" and had replaced it with the somewhat more acceptable idea of merely "getting hurt."

Though Fai's concern warmed him, he knew it was misplaced. He always took elaborate precautions to prevent his own demise. He considered what dying so soon would mean: Fai—the whole world—would be consumed by a horrible curse should Ashura die by any means but Fai's hand. That dreadful knowledge loomed over every breath he took, every beat of his heart. It would haunt him for every remaining second of his life. He never forgot it. "I promise you, I will not allow any serious harm to come to me. I will make absolutely certain of it. You know I use magical spells and shields to protect myself in battle, and I am always surrounded by loyal liegemen and strong warriors."

"I suppose..." Fai seemed reassured. "But..."

"Yes? Is there something else?"

"I don't know," Fai said, sounding reluctant to speak. "It's just...the way you're doing it—starting the war, I mean—it's sneaky."

"Ah. Yes, I suppose it is." Ashura smiled, still amused by the joke he would play upon Skudra.

Fai grew emboldened by Ashura's lack of censure. "I don't like that you're starting the war like that. It doesn't seem right. Last time, you just declared war, explained your reasons, and had the army attack Arimaspea. This time, it's tricky, but it's, well..."

"Dishonest? Underhanded?" Ashura supplied. Fai ducked his head. Ashura said, "I shouldn't tell you this, but sometimes politics is all about subterfuge, and war is just another form of politics, really. One must measure out dishonesty with discretion in situations like this."

"I know there are different kinds of lies," Fai said with surprising insight. "This one just doesn't seem necessary. It's making things too complicated," he counseled gravely. "It might not go the way you want."

Probably the voice of experience, Ashura thought with humor. The most successful courtiers were skilled liars, and already Fai bid fair to match and even surpass them all—which meant Fai had had practice with lies both failed and successful to learn from. Ashura approved, though he knew he probably shouldn't. At least, not too much.

"Besides," Fai added, "Lord Suhail and even Lord Taishakuten didn't like it, either, and they know all about politics and war."

"My little conscience. You are correct, they didn't like it."

"So why do it this way? The Arimaspi tried to kill you. You should just attack openly. No one would be surprised or even care, would they? Since you were attacked first."

Ashura uttered a self-deprecating grunt. "So Suhail and Taishakuten also said." King Ukko had said as much during the winter festival, as well, and also obliquely offered help. Ashura considered his own motives. "Truly, I believe I just got caught up in my own joke. I like it too much to abandon it."

"It is kind of funny," Fai allowed. "Just not for starting a war, right? King Skudra wouldn't really fall for that kind of trick, would he? I mean, even if he got really mad, he has people around him to keep him from doing something stupid, just like you. Right?"

"Yes, you are correct again. I wanted to enrage Skudra into thoughtless action so that we would have the advantage, but his own advisors would calm him down before he did anything foolish. I suppose I was so impressed with my own cleverness that I left them out of my calculations." He looked down at Fai with affectionate respect. "You will make a fine royal advisor one day. You got me to think about the obvious flaw in my plans. I was having so much fun imagining Skudra's reaction to my prank that I was blind to its faults."

"I'm sure the others would have talked to you about it again."

"But they wouldn't have knocked sense into me quite as literally as you did," Ashura teased.

Fai bit his lower lip at the reference to his own outburst. "I didn't mean to do that."

"I know. It was an accident."

"I could have really hurt you."

"Fai, soon you will begin learning combat magic in earnest, and we will spar. I am certain I will be knocked down many times while you learn mastery." Ashura shifted to ease a growing ache in his posterior. The floor was hard, but harder still was the direction in which he needed to take the conversion. "And that brings me to another topic I must broach. You should not have been spying upon me or the royal council meeting, Fai. That is a serious offense and breach of trust."

"I'm sorry."

"The illicit knowledge you gained led directly to your loss of magical control," Ashura went on. "Additionally, it was privileged information, not to be discussed outside the council chamber without my authorization."

"You're going to punish me, aren't you?" Fai looked resigned. "I heard about how you punished Tancred, Virender, and Mielu."

"Yes, but the official, public reason for it must be because you misused magic, and we can leave it at that." Ashura confirmed, while trying to think of a suitable form of discipline. Fai's lack of magical restraint was of the same type as Tancred's. Fai's was worse both because of his target and his tremendous strength, but Fai was also younger and not as trained or experienced as Tancred. The chastisement for Fai's spying needed to take his youth and immaturity into account, as well as the need to keep secret Fai's real transgressions. Others would not take kindly to the truth should it became public knowledge.

Fai's punishment must be like Tancred's, Ashura decided, just for a longer period. No magic, and restriction to the castle grounds, all to last for a minimum of two weeks. Not that Ashura could really enforce those particular constraints on someone as overwhelmingly powerful as Fai, but the child was feeling guilty and would probably capitulate and accept them.

"I think your punishment will be similar to—" Ashura stopped abruptly as a voice hissed "No!" directly into his ear. "What?" he gasped. He scrambled to his feet, looking around the room and then down at Fai. "What did you say?"

Fai, still sitting on the floor, gaped wide-eyed at him. "I didn't say anything."

Whispers repeated the word "no" all around Ashura. Two voices, a woman's and a man's, and both strangely familiar, commanded in unison, "Don't interfere."

Don't interfere? Interfere with what? What was happening? Ashura's alarmed gaze darted to the window, the door, the ceiling, even each piece of furniture. A monster wave of frozen white suddenly appeared out of nowhere and loomed over him, threatening to bury him alive, and a small, featureless child-figure rose up from beneath it, glowing with soft, golden radiance. Its floor-length hair fluttered in a non-existent breeze, and its hands cupped a feather of bizarre, pointed shape with markings like a stylized heart. Surely that feather claimed no avian origin. It was far too deformed to allow for any natural bird's flight.

Like the two assertive voices, it, too, seemed familiar, though Ashura couldn't force his mind to identify it while caught in the merciless grip of hallucinatory sight.

Two more of the peculiar feathers joined the first, so that three of them hung before Ashura's eyes. The pair of new feathers merged into the towering wall of frozen white, and in that instant the entire vision shimmered and vanished like a mirage. The whispers ceased. The room returned to its original state, mundane and quiet. Ordinary.

"What are you looking for?" Fai asked, worry filling his expressive features. He stood up and touched Ashura's arm. "Oh, you're not all right. You must have hit your head when I... I'm sorry, I... You need a healer, don't you...?"

"No, Fai," Ashura told him, shaken. He pressed his free hand to his chest, felt his heart pounding and his blood rushing. "I just thought of something important, that's all, and it...it distracted me from what I was saying." The excuse sounded thin and weak, but Fai seemed to accept it.

"You're sure you're okay?" Fai pressed. "You're positive? You look so pale..."

"I am perfectly fine, Fai." Ashura inhaled several deep breaths, calming himself. He didn't often have waking visions. They were so unusual for him that he could count on his fingers the number of times he'd experienced them in his whole life. But he recognized one when it kicked him in the teeth.

What it portended, that was the tricky part. That looming, frozen white wall suggested the coming avalanche that Fai would face, but as for the rest? Ashura had no idea. He did, however, recognize the warning he had received.

He shook off the unnerving fear the vision had instilled in him, filing it away for later examination. Putting on a normal air that he didn't yet feel, he said in a brisk tone, "Now, where was I? Oh, yes, your punishment."

Fai still looked concerned, but he said bravely, "I trust to your fairness and impartiality, Your Majesty."

Despite his own worries, Ashura chuckled. Quite the little conniver, his Fai, and so clever in his attempt to instill leniency in his guardian. "Your trust is not misplaced, Lord Wizard. Your punishment shall not be extreme, but will impress upon you the seriousness of your actions." Ashura thought quickly, revising his previous plan to restrict Fai's movements and his use of magic. Ashura wasn't certain which had sparked that vision, and so would do nothing to interfere with either.

He thought of the perfect punishment, and smiled broadly. Fai would no doubt regard it as terrible indeed.

"Your punishment, Lord Wizard, is this: For spying upon a royal council meeting, and for lashing out with dangerous magic thoughtlessly, you shall be restricted from your cooking lessons for two weeks. You are not to cook, nor even visit the kitchens, during that time."

Fai gasped in protest. "That's not fair!"

"Any violation of these terms," Ashura went on relentlessly, "will result in the punishment being extended for a longer period. The first violation shall result in two extra days without kitchen privileges. The second will add four more days to your punishment. Do you understand?"

Fai still looked like he wanted to protest, but his sense of self-preservation kept him from uttering any foolish statements. He pressed his lips together tightly and nodded. "Yes, sir," he said, subdued.

"Very good." Satisfied that Fai understood the discipline and the reasons for it, Ashura crouched down and placed a hand on Fai's shoulder. "Now, Fai, because of the serious nature of your transgressions, we must keep them quiet. I do not wish the council to know you were spying upon them. It would be disastrous. Likewise, no one must know you assaulted me in rage, no matter that it was accidental."

Fai paled. "What would they do to me?"

"I will not allow them to do anything to you," Ashura reassured him. "You are my responsibility and my child. They would be made to understand that your actions were born of childish immaturity, not malice. However, I would prefer to avoid trouble with them as well as nasty court rumors, and I don't think you want that kind of attention directed at you."

"I didn't mean any harm." Fai's voice was very quiet.

"I know. Can you keep the real reasons secret? We can say that you, like Tancred, simply acted out of temper and launched a fireball in, oh, say, here in your quarters. You grew angry and frustrated about that self-levitation spell that's been giving you trouble, and you ignored and disobeyed me when I tried to get you to attempt the spell again. A chair was the target of your anger."

"There's no damage to any chairs," Fai pointed out.

Ashura grinned and threw a fireball at a chair. It blew up with a satisfactory burst of blue flames and charred splinters. He immediately captured the debris, fire, and smoke in a bubble shield and put out the fire before it could do more damage to Fai's apartment.

"Now there's damage to a chair," Ashura said smugly.

"You're very good at this sort of thing," Fai observed.

The guards out in the hallway started shouting and banging on the door. Ashura's barricade spell held easily against them.

"I've had many years of practice," he said by way of explanation. Slyly, he added, "I suspect I'm not alone at being good at this sort of thing."

Fai avoided any self-incriminating confessions, instead saying, "You should let the guards know it's okay in here."

"So I should, before they bring the castle down." Ashura went to reassure his guards, taking the opportunity to begin spreading the cover story for Fai's punishment. Gossip had its uses. By the time he mentioned it to any of his councilors, the rumors would be so well entrenched that everyone would consider them plain, ordinary facts.

 


	47. Chapter 47

The next week passed uneventfully. With the excuse of his new responsibilities to tie him to the court, Taishakuten stayed at Luval. His retinue remained with him.

Tancred and his family went home, with the understanding that Tancred would be summoned to return any time there was another council meeting. The castle seemed much quieter without the three royal heirs creating mayhem and foolishness.

Ashura spent some time reconsidering his opal prank, and reluctantly decided to abandon it. Instead, he agreed to simply declare war on Arimaspea in the usual way, with the reason being the failed assassination. The attempt on his life, the original opal charm, and the testimony obtained from the guilty parties about Crown Prince Davros's involvement were all the justification required.

Suhail and Taishakuten approved heartily of his decision. Ashura let them think their arguments had swayed him against the scheme, rather than admit that the only "advisor" who had made any dent in his hard head was nine years old.

A war council would have to be convened, but no sooner had Ashura informed Suhail and Taishakuten of his change of heart than another blizzard swept in from the north. No war could be conducted in harsh winter conditions, not even by the Seresian armies. Though hardened to extreme cold and accustomed to maneuvering in deep snow and ice, even those hardy souls would be hard-pressed just to survive, let alone fight. It was too much to ask of them, and foolish to even consider the idea.

Ashura turned his thoughts to more important considerations, specifically, his waking dream. That strange vision always lurked in the back of his mind. He had hoped that any prognostication important enough to intrude upon his waking consciousness would return during sleep and dreams. However, that had not occurred. His sleep for the past seven nights had been untroubled.

Ashura supposed that meant he had taken the proper course of action and that he should just relax, but still that vision and all its attendant uncertainties haunted him.

With such weighty matters preoccupying him, it was little wonder that he lost track of what was going on around him. Especially during his free time in his private quarters, when no more was required of him than to play a board game.

"Ashura, wake up!" Kendappa snapped. "It's your move."

"Hmmm?" He glanced at her, then down at the elaborately carved and gold-inlaid halatafl board on the small table between them. As was her wont, Kendappa played the two pegs of red jasper—the foxes—on the board. Ashura had but eleven of his original twenty sheep remaining, represented by clear crystal pegs.

Kendappa looked irritated. In his distraction, Ashura had moved pieces randomly. He recognized that her foxes could easily take any of his sheep that she wanted, and in fact prevent them from gaining any advantage at all. Kendappa played to win, and thoughtless opponents always annoyed her.

Ashura played to win, too, but the strategy game with which he most concerned himself would take many, many years to play out, with its board an entire cosmos. His pieces were Fai and the people of his world, and his opponents were magicians so powerful they might as well be gods. While he believed he made his moves in parallel with the Witch of Dimensions' desires, he deliberately tried to stymie the dark sorcerer who had cursed Fai and sought to break the universe. Still, some of Ashura's moves could not help but advance the dark sorcerer's game. There was no other way open.

For Ashura, winning meant saving Fai from the dark sorcerer's schemes. That it would aid the Witch and help keep the cosmos from destruction was a nice benefit in that it gave Fai his choice of worlds in which to reside. A dead cosmos ultimately meant a dead Fai.

Ashura did not deny his innate selfishness. What was good for Fai was good for everyone else. So Ashura believed and so he would continue making his moves until he was removed from the cosmic board. Should his strategy prove effective, the game would have no choice but to play out in the direction he desired, even after his own death.

He wondered how his waking vision related to the Great Game. It had to be important. He had been passively waiting for clarification in the dreams of sleep, but that had not proved effective. Perhaps he should actively attempt to walk the dream paths again and see what he could discover of the meaning.

"You're drifting again," Kendappa accused him. "If you don't want to play, just concede and pay up." Her index finger tapped the small pile of gold coins beside the halatafl board.

"Aren't you supposed to let me win?" Ashura asked. "To try to get on the king's good side, you know."

"When have I ever worried about that?" Kendappa retorted.

He smiled and nodded. Even when they had been childhood playmates, Kendappa had not often shown the Heir to the Ice Phoenix Throne the proper respect. As a child, Ashura had both resented and adored her for that attitude. He had not always gotten what he wanted, but with Kendappa and his younger brother, Tendulkar, to jeer at him, he had been kept from becoming too unbearable with his demands and expectations.

At least, he didn't think he was too unbearable.

"If you're not interested in halatafl, would you rather play vint? We can always drag in a couple more players," she said, referring to a popular, four-person card game that involved at least as much strategy as halatafl and even more trickery and bidding. Her lips pursed. "No, you're far too distracted. What can possibly be bothering you now?"

"I was just thinking about Fai," Ashura admitted. "I wonder if I'm doing right by him. I know you're going to say I worry too much, but there's no helping it."

"Ah, cousin, you're right. You do worry too much." She cocked a brow at him. "I know sometimes Fai sighs and acts a bit morose since you barred him from the kitchens, but that behavior is erratic. I suspect most of it's just a show for your benefit, and only when he remembers he's supposed to be sad about it. But if it bothers you or you feel he's learned his lesson, you can always revoke his punishment early."

"His misbehavior was too severe for that," Ashura murmured, making a show of examining the game board.

"It was not much different than Tancred's foolish outburst." Like the rest of the court, Kendappa only knew that Fai had misused magic in an unacceptable way and destroyed a chair rather than controlling himself as Ashura had presumably ordered. "Honestly, I'm surprised that Fai's punishment is different. The same crime should merit the same punishment, should it not? That's your normal attitude when dealing with real criminals, so why not with heedless children?"

"Adaptations must be made for individual miscreants and circumstances." Ashura finally looked up at her, unwilling to reveal his full reasons for Fai's particular punishment. As always, a partial truth would suffice.

"Fai's power is so great, Kendappa," he continued. "Even now, there is no controlling him if he doesn't wish to be controlled. Think of the future, when his power becomes greater still. He must be curbed now, while he is still young and amenable. Acceptable behavior and morality must be ingrained in him before he grows so powerful that he could..." Ashura faltered on the words, so true, too true, then went on, "...that he could crush the world." Kendappa would never know how true that statement was.

"You're being dramatic," she said with an amused huff. "Fai's power can sometimes be frightening, yes, but he is too sweet and good-natured to engage in world crushing."

If only you knew, Ashura thought. Not that Fai would do it deliberately, and in any case, Ashura hoped his plans would free Fai from the curse that would end the whole world. "Think of how rebellious and resentful adolescents can be when their whims are thwarted."

Kendappa snorted. "Or when they just feel grumpy for no reason at all," she said with a laugh.

"Yes, exactly. Now imagine Fai's adolescence. Can you see my concern? Best that restraint is instilled in him now, before the stresses and changes of that age take hold upon him." He smiled. "And what better way than banishing him from the kitchens? It will certainly impress upon him the need for restraint, if only so that he can go back to begging treats from the cooks and creating his favorite desserts." His fingers twitched over one of his crystal pegs, moved to another, and hopped it forward.

"So instead you continue to allow him to roam the countryside freely and use magic as he pleases. Even now, he is out somewhere in the mountains, doing who knows what." Kendappa sighed. "You know I disapprove of that freedom, even when he's not being punished. It's unseemly for a young prince to just wander about like that. And dangerous."

"But he wouldn't feel the loss of that freedom nearly as much as he feels the loss of his kitchen privileges. Besides, there are always wizards tracking him."

"Spying upon him, you mean." Kendappa snorted.

Ashura started slightly, because spying was one of the real reasons for Fai's punishment. Spying upon the royal council, and upon Ashura himself. That act had led directly to the other reason: Fai's uncontrolled burst of violent magic against Ashura. "Better that than for him to stumble into troubles beyond his experience," he replied.

Surveying the game board, Kendappa didn't notice her cousin's initial reaction to her words. She moved one of her foxes to take the sheep piece Ashura had unwisely put in her way. "Your game is still off," she said, holding her new trophy up then dropping it into the pile of crystal pegs she had already taken. "You're down to a mere ten sheep now, and none of them have made it even halfway across the board." She leaned back. "I don't object to Fai having an escort, just the surreptitious manner it is taking. Does he know he's followed?"

"With his power, I'm sure he must know on some level." Ashura folded his arms across his chest in defeat. "I guess I shall take your earlier suggestion and concede the game."

With a smug look and a sweep of her hand, Kendappa gathered in her winnings. "I should play more often with you when you are in a distracted state of mind. I would become rich."

"Richer, you mean," Ashura said, amused by her audacity. "You're already one of the wealthiest people in this country."

"A little more is always nice. It's especially nice when it comes from your purse." Kendappa twinkled at him.

He laughed. "How greedy and presumptuous you've become, that you desire your king's wealth."

"Presumptuous, me? You're the presumptuous one. Who else would turn a D-titled court wizard into a babysitter and the mighty Griffin of the South into a tutor for a nine-year-old boy?" She dropped the coins into a pouch. "You may have everyone else fooled, but I've spent a lifetime watching your mind at work, cousin. I know the real reason you appointed Taishakuten to the Council of Nobles. How devious of you."

Ashura didn't bother denying it. Not with Kendappa, who usually saw and understood too much. "Do you disapprove?"

"Not particularly. He does seem to have a knack for training Fai with weapons. Besides, you know I appreciate him."

"Especially his strength," Ashura put in. "You've extolled the virtues of his strength often enough. Please do not again regale me with the wonders of how strong he is. The repetition got tiresome long ago. Did you know, your admiration for him and his strength seemed so great in this past year that I sometimes had half a mind to marry you to him. If not for the differences in your ranks, and the fact that you must make a marriage of alliance with Thule..." He trailed off suggestively and made a silly face at her.

"You're in a whimsical mood now. Do spare me your prattling nonsense." Kendappa scowled at him and his mention of her coming marriage. "Nor think to distract me from this subject. I thought you preferred Taishakuten in the Southlands. Others can train Fai almost as well as he."

"Honestly, he's the best weapons tutor I've ever found for Fai. It's true that I do prefer him in the Southlands, but it's still too soon to send him home. Things are finally calmer down there, and I'd like them to stay that way for a little while."

Kendappa shrugged. "The area will get riled up all over again once your army marches on Arimaspea."

"True enough. So let's take a little peace while we can."

"You consider Taishakuten peaceful?"

"He's not irritating people in Spou while he's here."

"No, he's only irritating Vainamoinen."

Ashura laughed. "Yes, that must be true. Though he hasn't said anything, I'm certain Vainamoinen was quite aggravated by Taishakuten's inattention during the last council meeting. I thought Taishakuten might fall asleep right in the middle of Vainamoinen's presentation. How amusing it would have been to see him drooling on the table. I would have appointed him to the council years ago had I known how much entertainment he'd provide."

Kendappa scrunched up her nose. "You're prattling silly nonsense again."

Ashura offered his cousin a lopsided grin. "If I cannot best you at halatafl, I can at least best you at prattling and nonsense." He idly doodled a magical design in the air, using shimmering, interlaced lines of deep blue and black. The tracery took the well-known, ornate avian form that decorated the royal arms, standards, and banners.

"The Phoenix of Vanir," Kendappa remarked. "Nicely done. It's very precise. Have you been practicing? You best me at art, as well as prattling and nonsense."

Ashura stared at it. It looked identical to the marking he had created to restrain Fai's power. Was that lurking in his mind, under all the thoughts and fears for the future?

While he had completed that terrible spell several months ago, he hadn't yet used it on Fai. He hated the idea of binding Fai's magic and preventing it from reaching its full, glorious potential. He knew, though, that it was the only real way he possessed to make certain his own power could one day surpass Fai's. Even murdering all his people and stealing power from their lives could not increase his magic enough were he to leave Fai's to grow unrestrained. Only by using the marking could he ever hope to exceed Fai's magic, triggering Fai's first dreadful curse: the curse to kill the first magician he met more powerful than him. Only in that way could Ashura strip away both the monstrous curses that Fai bore. Only in that way could Ashura remove the second curse that would trap Fai and ultimately crush him and the world out of existence.

When Ashura thought about it, he told himself that there was still time, that Fai's power hadn't yet grown enough for the marking to be required. Most of the time he didn't think about it at all.

And yet here, in a moment of abstraction, he'd doodled out the design.

Disturbed, he banished the phoenix pattern. "You know, I didn't even realize what I was going to draw when I started doodling," he admitted.

A familiar thrum of teleportation magic resonated within him, well-controlled enough on this occasion that Ashura felt only warmth from it. He smiled knowingly, which caused Kendappa to look at him with suspicion.

A minute later Fai barged into the room. "I'm back!" he announced, peeling off two layers of coats and shedding a great deal of snow in the process. The coats joined the melting snow on the floor. A pair of boots dropped on top of them.

"Welcome home," said Ashura. "Now put away your clothes and clean up your mess."

Fai pouted, but did as told with a neat bit of apportation. The clothing and snow vanished together, and a pair of indoor shoes appeared in Fai's hand. He sat down to put them on.

"Well done," Ashura said. Using a quick magical check, he discovered that the coats were now lying across a trunk in Fai's room, and the snow had been returned outside. Fai had done all that, while simultaneously apporting a pair of shoes into his hand, so easily. He hadn't even had to think about the spell. He'd just tossed it off casually, almost with disregard, and the three apportations had all been executed perfectly. How breathtaking. "I see everything is back in its proper place."

"You didn't have to check my work like a schoolteacher," Fai complained, standing up again. "I've been able to do easy magic like that for a long time now."

"Most wouldn't have found that feat easy," Ashura told him. All but the most advanced would have found it impossible. "You are quite an excellent wizard."

Fai puffed up. "I'm going get better. I'm going to be the best D-titled wizard ever."

He already was the strongest D-titled wizard in history, but Ashura didn't plan to add even more to Fai's conceit today. Besides, Fai probably knew it. He'd studied enough of the old records to know his power outclassed virtually every wizard in Seresu's chronicles. Only the dazzling—and fictional—hero-wizards of ancient myth compared...and, of course, the gods.

Ashura didn't like to think about the other magicians he had encountered that compared to gods, but without them and their machinations, he wouldn't have Fai...

Fai probably didn't consider himself part of the elevated company of heroes and godlike magicians, though. He could sometimes be so terribly insecure.

Fai walked over to the game table, surveyed the board, and shook his head. "I also play better than that," he said to Kendappa with ridiculous condescension for a nine-year-old.

"His Majesty is the one who's losing, not me," she said with a grin. "In fact, he's already conceded. The crystal sheep are his."

"I figured as much."

"My mind wasn't on the game," Ashura commented with pique at the criticism.

Fai eyed the board critically. "The sheep could still win, you know."

Kendappa laughed. "Not likely. But if you want to demonstrate, Lord Wizard..." She got up and let Fai take her place.

Fai turned the board around. "I'll finish the game with the sheep. You can be the foxes," he told Ashura grandly.

Ashura shook his head but accepted the changes. He didn't doubt Fai's word, and expected that he would soon be on the losing side of the board once more. "You have your work cut out for you. I really made a muddle of my game."

Fai shrugged. "Whose move is it?"

Kendappa said, "The sheep's. So yours."

Fai moved a piece.

Ashura saw no great advantage to that particular move, but he'd learned long ago that Fai's game strategies could be quite deceptive. "Anyway, where have you been, Fai?" he asked, moving one of the foxes to what he hoped was a good position.

Fai suddenly looked self-conscious. "Um, promise not to get mad?"

"No. Requests like that are concerning. Now, tell me."

Fai heaved out a deep breath. He stalled a moment by moving another of his sheep, then admitted, "I've been to Nadenda."

"Nadenda?" Ashura said, surprised. "Why? There is only rebuilding there right now." At least there were a lot of workmen and supervisors to watch over Fai. None would have allowed the young princeling to come to any harm. The snow on the slopes had not yet built up again to worrisome levels, so a new avalanche was unlikely.

"That's what I wanted to see."

"The rebuilding?" Ashura cocked a puzzled brow at Fai. "Do you aspire to oversee the project with Lord Poaval and Lord Vainamoinen? You are a bit young yet for such responsibilities," he teased. He moved a fox without thought.

Fai made a sour face, though whether it was in reaction to Ashura's light comment or his mindless game was unknown. Fai moved a sheep sideways. "Not really. I just wanted to see the avalanche barricades." He waited while Ashura moved a fox to counter, then moved a different sheep forward. "They're just big mounds of rocks and some staggered walls!" Fai said indignantly. "How is something like that supposed to stop avalanches?"

"The idea is reduce the force of the avalanche and minimize the damage it can cause, not to stop it entirely," Ashura said, studying the board. He saw no good move to play; Fai's sheep were all out of range. He moved a fox to close distance. "It expends its energy against the walls and slows down. Also, some of the snow and debris stays caught behind any barriers that it doesn't uproot."

"Magic would be better," Fai stated with a huff. "The barricades could be reinforced with spells."

"They will be," Ashura informed him, "but magic doesn't last forever. It must be refreshed from time to time, and is never enough to stop an avalanche. The barricades can still be overcome by a powerful enough force. We have long experience with this, Fai. The last avalanche at Nadenda was simply too much for the existing barriers."

"What about casting a spell directly on the avalanche, or creating a shield?"

Ashura drew in a sharp breath. The discussion was getting too close to his visions for comfort. He mastered his reactions before they could become too noticeable. "No magician I have heard of could stop an avalanche like that, Fai. Even if one could, there aren't enough magicians in the country to keep watch for avalanches. There's no way to predict where one will occur, and wizards powerful enough to make a difference against even a small one are exceedingly rare. I don't think any wizard could have much effect on a big one."

"I bet I could," Fai commented with conceit.

Ashura briefly closed his eyes in dread. He'd known the conversation would end up in this place. It was inevitable.

"I'd rather you didn't go looking for avalanches, Fai," he said, knowing it a futile effort. He refrained from making it an order, though. The warning of his waking vision could not be ignored or disregarded.

Fai grunted and advanced a sheep to the finish line, a red area of the board called the paddock. In fact, several other sheep were already there.

"How did you do that?" Ashura asked, gaping at the game board. Though he and Fai had been playing steadily throughout the conversation, he hadn't noticed those moves. His distraction at work again, he supposed, and this particular distraction even worse than before.

"You were too busy talking and trying to capture that decoy sheep over there," Fai told him, pointing at the board. "Besides, your moves are kind of limited right now."

Ashura saw that one of his foxes was over against the side of the board, too far from any sheep to be useful now that Fai was so far ahead in the game. Disgruntled, he took care to move his other fox to block another sheep's advance.

Kendappa, watching the game, laughed. "I see Your Majesty is already losing again. You should not play while discussing weighty matters of state with your chief advisor, cousin," she told him cheekily. "Fai has already led one of your foxes astray, pushed four sheep to the finish, and positioned three more to an advantage. The paddock will be filled soon if you aren't careful."

Ashura leaned his elbows on the table, laced his fingers, and rested his chin upon them. He sighed. "Should I just concede this uneven contest now, or shall we drag it out to the inevitable conclusion?"

"Oh, do keep playing," Kendappa said, pulling up a chair and sitting next to Ashura, who scowled at her. Unaffected by kingly and cousinly censure, she apported her harp into her hands and strummed the simple melody from a common nursery chant used by children to taunt one another. "I'm enjoying this."

"I'm sure you are."

"I told you the sheep could still win," Fai said smugly.


	48. Chapter 48

The dream space surrounded Ashura, unchanged since last he'd walked its shining paths.

All dreamers perceived the realm of dreams differently. Ashura's perception was always of endless black space filled with a gloriously convoluted network of luminous spheres linked by shimmering pathways of possibilities and rivers of potentiality. A mysterious infinity of what-ifs and maybe-nots drifted alongside the certain futures, and just as uncountable were the failures that led to no future at all.

In his quest for a way to save Fai, he often walked these fantastical roads to view a future, any future, that might lead to success. He only found dead ends, loss, and sometimes even horror beyond imagining. As yet, he had not identified any viable future for his child beyond the one to which he had already committed himself, and he found no comfort there. That future was not only bloody and terrible, but also uncertain to produce the results he sought: Fai's salvation and continued life for creation.

Ahead of him lay that dreaded future, his river of blood: a hot, crimson deluge flowing into the dream of madness and genocide. It represented his destiny, and Fai's. He did not venture in that hideous direction.

No, this night he sought a different destination, one much nearer, a concern more immediate. He sought the dream of the avalanche that Fai must face.

With no better guidance than one dream several months ago and a recent, cryptic waking vision, he'd had no choice but to force the issue with a hastily constructed spell for knowledge and a light sleeping draught to push him into the realm of dreams. He knew he should have taken the initiative sooner, but had hoped and prayed it would not be necessary. He despised sleeping potions, as they could trap him with his dreams, his nightmares and horrors, until the drug's effects wore off.

So instead of directly seeking knowledge, he had wasted time waiting, hoping the answers he desired would come to him in the night without any premeditated action on his part. Most specifically, he had not wanted to again witness the river of blood, his own madness, or Seresu's death, and had dreaded that his recurring nightmare might suck him in and consume him as it had done so many times before. However, Fai's boasts of being powerful enough to stop avalanches had made necessary the step of deliberately seeking out the future.

Despite Ashura's apprehension, the river of blood and the future it portended stayed remote, distant, and did not drag on his soul. Instead, he drew near to another dream, one of frost and broken snow, of overwhelming force and earsplitting roars. The dream of the avalanche. The dream he sought, and feared.

He touched the dream softly and breathed out, "Show me."

At his command, the dream engulfed him.

Ashura found himself standing in the central square of a small but bustling village nestled in an isolated valley surrounded by mountains. The terrain bore scattered evergreens, so must be high in altitude. Not so high as to be above the tree line, but high enough that the trees thinned and the steep slopes were heavy with pure white snow. Thick clouds broke in places to let in shafts of sunlight. The latest storms had deposited fresh powder in layer after thick layer, so the snowpack was deep and, as Ashura knew too well, precarious.

The townsfolks' comfortable, well-constructed clothes, snug and attractive homes, cleared stone roads, and busy shops proclaimed the village a prosperous place. Ashura caught sight of a little girl with a sprinkle of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She looked a few years younger than Fai. Chattering and laughing, she tugged her mother's hand, pointing at something in a shop window.

What a charming scene. Ashura smiled, a little melancholy. He wished Fai could one day learn to smile and laugh as easily as that little girl. Some days it seemed like Fai would never even manage a tiny, half-hearted upturn of his lips.

All the people of the town looked content and happy as they went about their business. They had no idea that their lives were so terribly endangered.

Ever had Seresu's mountain settlements been at risk. They were always located for ease of access to the mountains' riches: timber, minerals and precious gems, furs, clean water, fish and pearl-bearing mussels from the rivers and lakes. This little town in particular looked well-situated to be buried one day by snow, ice, and debris, but its carefree citizens shopped, worked, chatted, and played. They had not bothered to construct any avalanche barriers. Indeed, that may simply have been a practical decision. The town was surrounded by slopes, and it was questionable that barriers would even have been of much use. The townsfolk would know of the risk, but it was not an ever-present concern, simply something to keep in mind. After all, life must be lived, and they could not predict the future. Their home had always been safe, and there was no reason they could foresee for things to change.

On this day, they learned the foolhardiness of their complacency.

From far above, the mountains rumbled. At first Ashura heard only a series of little growls. The townsfolk didn't appear to notice, instead continuing to go about their business in their ordinary ways. Then cracks formed in the smooth, white snowpack on the highest slopes. The fissures widened, and widened; the snowpack shivered and shifted. Suddenly, with a thunderous boom, an enormous mass of snow broke away from its cradle.

Monstrous sheets of snow and ice slipped free and descended, roaring down, down, picking up momentum and debris and ever increasing masses of snow. Uprooted trees and boulders tumbled like flotsam, all carried along by the irresistible downward flow.

The avalanche glistened in the bright sunlight, deafening, ever changing, growing larger and larger, throwing up billowing white clouds of crystalline powder as it surged down the mountainside.

Ashura could only watch as white death descended. It was beautiful, terrible, its relentless flow almost hypnotic. Around him, the common folk shrieked and panicked, running scattered and in disarray. Some headed to the community's perimeter, attempting to escape. Beyond the cleared roads lay deep, unending snow that none could slog through fast enough. Alarm bells rang, but it was too late.

The monster broke over the village. Ashura collapsed as the frozen white wall crashed into him, all but knocking him unconscious. An oppressive, crushing pressure bore down upon him.

Movement ceased.

He opened his eyes. All was dark. All was silent.

He was buried.

Buried in snow.

It was cold, so terribly cold. Shivers wracked him, so violent as to shake the flesh from his bones, but he could not move to escape the cold. With snow and ice packed tightly all around him, he was completely immobilized. He could barely twitch a finger, he was so confined. He knew this was how the townsfolk of Nadenda had died: buried in snow, either killed by the initial concussion or entombed to die slowly and alone of hypothermia or suffocation. Already he felt his body heat draining away, and the little air above his face growing stale.

Before panic could take hold, the tons of snow pulled away with an odd, sucking noise. Time reversed, and the avalanche flowed backwards up the mountains. Uprooted trees replanted themselves, rocks rolled back into their former positions, and loose debris resettled. The snowpack firmed, with cracks healing and vanishing to leave a pristine, perfectly smooth surface of blinding white.

As he had begun the dream, Ashura again found himself standing in the central square of the small but bustling village. No one around him had noticed anything out of the ordinary.

And why should they? It hadn't happened yet.

Ashura took a moment to recover his composure. It was just a dream. It wasn't real. Not yet. So he told himself.

But it would happen eventually. That much he knew.

He went to a prominent area where a bulletin board had been erected and scanned the notices. The village, he found, was called Nyaidem-Yamalo. The name came from the old language spoken by Seresu's nomadic reindeer herders, and translated as having to do with moss, or being a mossy place in Yamalo, or something like that. An odd name for an insignificant settlement that was probably snowy all year long. Ashura recalled that reindeer could paw through snow to find moss underneath to graze upon. Perhaps some herders had put down roots, giving this small town its start.

So now he knew the location. His eyes roved over the bulletins. When he came upon the day's date, hard spasms of panic burst upon him and he clutched at his chest. There were only two days until this avalanche would occur! Only two!

A week previous he had had his waking dream, his warning not to meddle with Fai's wandering and magic—just seven days ago. And now in two days' time the avalanche would come. That meant Fai would face his fate nine days after that awful vision.

Ashura pondered the significance with misery. Nine was an important number in Seresian mysticism, a number of foreboding, a harbinger both for good and for ill. He could only hope it meant good this time, but he feared that ill would come of this, as well. He had nothing to base his fear upon, but he trusted the sick feeling in his gut.

Since this was a prophetic dream, he considered that feeling significant.

He tried to tell himself that this wasn't the avalanche Fai was destined to face. Fai had not been present, after all. He had not faced nature's fury, had not attempted to stave off an irresistible force of destruction. Perhaps, Ashura thought, he was dreaming of some other town, some other catastrophe. Perhaps the looming omens, the nine days, the sick feelings, perhaps they were just coincidences, just delusions born of his own terror. Perhaps he had misinterpreted the warning of his waking dream.

Perhaps there was still more time...

A series of little growls came from above. Ashura whirled, gaping at the rumbling mountains. The townsfolk didn't appear to notice, instead going about their business in their ordinary ways. Then cracks formed in the smooth, white snowpack on the high slopes. The fissures widened, and widened; the snowpack shivered and shifted. Suddenly, with a thunderous boom, an enormous mass of snow broke away from its cradle.

Monstrous sheets of snow and ice slipped free and descended, roaring down, down, picking up momentum and debris and ever increasing masses of snow. Uprooted trees and boulders tumbled like flotsam, all carried along by the irresistible downward flow.

The avalanche glistened in the bright sunlight, deafening, ever changing, growing larger and larger, throwing up billowing white clouds of crystalline powder as it surged down the mountainside.

Ashura stared up at the mountains and watched, transfixed, as white death again descended. But this time...this time all his fears were realized.

A small, solitary figure stood on an icy jut partway up the slope, a long distance before the village. A wizard, brandishing a staff of gold, sky blue jewels, and a focus stone made from a unique fluorite crystal. His determined posture proclaiming his defiance of nature's horrific fury, he stood directly in the path of the unstoppable masses of snow and ice and debris. His hood fell back, and blond hair glowed like a halo as he marshaled his power. He raised his staff high. Eldritch energy swelled; a shield formed, one wider than the town's borders and taller than the avalanche's leading edge. A shield to protect an entire village, wielded by such a small, frail figure.

The avalanche broke over the young wizard—

"Fai!" Ashura gasped, instinctively conjuring a spell to snatch his son away from certain death.

"Don't interfere!" a chorus of voices, male and female, commanded, stopping him cold before his magic could take form. The town and mountains vanished, to be replaced by a plain of solid ice. The Gods' Sacred Fires rippled overhead in their hypnotic, stately dance, splashing curtains of multihued radiance across the clear, dark sky. Relentless, cold stars glared down like baleful white eyes, and a waning crescent moon hung low on the frozen horizon. The eternal ice glowed with the reflections of the celestial lights and colors. The empty land rolled on forever, bleak and barren. A mirror of his soul.

A surprised breath escaped Ashura's lips, congealing into gray mist that veiled his sight. When it dissipated, he was surrounded by nine Völur, standing about him in two groups. The inner grouping was of three, positioned in an equilateral triangle. The outer six were also equidistant, forming a hexagon: two interlocking triangles. Blue and black cloaks of great volume concealed all nine, the shapeless folds hiding their bodies. Their faces were obscured deep within the shadows of hoods draped over their heads.

He spun about, glowering at all of them. "What is the meaning of this? How dare you pull me away?"

They uttered no words in response to his demand. With perfect synchronization, the inner three pushed off their hoods, revealing a wise crone, a fruitful woman of prime years, and a sweet maiden like the new buds of spring.

"You!" Ashura recognized them at once. "I've met you before... In the far north of Seresu where ice is unending and no life dwells." Where not so long ago he had run in panic from an old vision, the brief vision of Kendappa's death. He had sought escape, freedom, and a place to scream out his pain. He had found the three strange Völur, who had bedeviled and angered him, bespelled him with calm, and reminded him of his true purpose for existing: Fai.

"Why are you here? Why do you intrude upon my dream?" he asked.

They remained silent, their faces expressionless, soulless, like marble statues. Lifeless and cold as the frozen landscape. He reached out to touch one, and his hand passed through as though the woman was but a ghost. None of the Völur reacted.

Dream symbolism, the rational part of his mind told him. They weren't really here. His dream had taken events from his past and incorporated it into his current mindscape. This place wasn't really real, he knew, and neither were these people. It was all just a dream.

These Völur must be significant; the vision must be attempting to convey some information. The trick was deciphering what was given to him.

"What have you to show me?" he asked, trying the direct approach.

The three held up their staves. The rods glowed brightly, blinding him. When the light faded, each woman cupped a single feather in her hands. Feathers of peculiar, pointed shape, with odd filigreed heart markings. Feathers which no natural bird could ever boast.

Feathers that radiated power: strange, awesome power. Power that could shape realities, power that could transcend time. Power to challenge the gods.

Disturbing power, familiar power. Ashura frowned. He'd felt power like that before, but he couldn't recall...

"This is foolishness," he growled, and made to stalk past the crone. She did nothing to stop him; she didn't even blink. Her feather's undisguised power brushed him as he passed by, and he felt as though a raptor claw had clenched his heart. He hesitated beside the crone, staring down at her feather. That shape, that outline, that heart design...he knew that feather, he'd known of it even before he'd seen the feathers in his waking vision. Long before. But then its power had been shielded and muffled, so that it was merely a discomfort, a gnawing on the soul. Where had he seen it before?

Crystal encrusted the crone's feather, completely encasing it in a shimmering gem the shape of an egg. The other two feathers flew out and down, sinking into the ice field, hidden from human sight.

Ashura pondered for a moment, recalling the feathers from his waking vision. Two of them had merged with the avalanche, like two here were buried in ice—buried in his own country. Unhappy with the implications, he looked to the outer Völur. "Reveal yourselves," he ordered them.

Once again, his dream complied with his wishes. The remaining six Völur reached up and pulled off their hoods. Ashura almost wished they hadn't.

The Witch of Dimensions faced him, staring at him in utter silence with her fathomless, soul-devouring eyes. Her face was somber but frozen, inanimate, lifeless. On either side of her stood an image of the dark sorcerer who had cursed Fai. Beside them stood two more images of the Witch, and the last was again the despised sorcerer.

Ashura had never seen the dark sorcerer without a sneer on his face and a smug, superior attitude. These three dream versions of the man were no different. Ashura moved to face the nearest of the sorcerer simulacra. This was a dream; the sorcerer wasn't really here. This was only a vision of the magician who could normally crush him like a bug.

Ashura hauled off and threw a punch right at the faux sorcerer's nose.

What a shame that, like the others, the vile sorcerer was just a mirage. Ashura's blow passed harmlessly through the sorcerer's face. The phantasm didn't even ripple.

"That wasn't very satisfying," Ashura muttered. He stood back and considered why his dream was showing him visions of the sorcerer and the Witch.

The Witch of Dimensions and the sorcerer spoke, their six voices joined as one: "Don't interfere."

"Don't interfere with what?" Ashura wanted to blast them all, but that would be as productive as punching the sorcerer had been. "With the avalanche? With those powerful feathers? What?"

An image of Fai confronting the avalanche flashed before his eyes, and his fear escalated. The Witches and sorcerers spoke again: "Don't interfere."

"Is this something you both need? Is that why you both make the same demand of me?" What a horrible thought, that both of them needed Fai to face that avalanche. But then, they weren't really here. They were just manifestations of his dream...

He turned his face up towards the sky, towards his dream, and shouted, "Is this something they both need?"

The nine vanished.

In the next instant, the ice beneath his feat liquefied, and he fell through into a realm of crystal clear water, cold and endless and so magically pure it could stop all change, all life. Water that connected all things. Water that connected worlds.

I will drown here, Ashura thought. The sleeping drug had not yet worn off, and he couldn't escape. His thick, fur-lined robes grew waterlogged. He sank, his heavy clothes sucking him deep into the water's frigid embrace, down, down, down.

How ridiculous, he thought, feeling strangely distant from the new peril. First I was buried alive by a dream avalanche, and now I shall drown in a dream sea.

But he didn't drown. It was just a dream, and he didn't even need to breathe. He let himself sink, giving himself over to the dream, waiting for the next revelation.

Light glowed beneath him, rays flickering in the surreal, mystical water, illuminating a crystal coffin. A shadowy human form rested within.

Ashura tensed.  He knew that coffin, knew the occupant.

The coffin shattered, splintering into glassy fragments that reeled and whirled in the watery currents. Many glided past Ashura, cutting his face, hands, and garments like honed knives. Thin ribbons of blood curled lazily, tinting patches of water before being diluted and swept away. He ignored the sting of pain. It wasn't real.

The human form rose, a young boy, shining in the depths like the wavy reflection of a full moon. His ankle-length hair gleamed brighter than spun gold, the locks drifting in the the sea with the shards of his former resting place. Princely raiment concealed a body gaunt and pinched. The boy's eyes were closed, and his hands clasped a polished fluorite egg to his chest.

"Fai," Ashura whispered. The true Fai, the dead twin who had first borne that name in life. Echoes of Ashura's hushed voice, of that blessed name, ebbed and flowed in the horribly pure water. The sea itself murmured and sighed Fai's name, swirling about the living man and the dead child in a taunt of undeniable truth. A truth that cut just as surely as the crystal knives of Fai's broken coffin.

The egg cracked. Celestial brilliance streamed forth from the fissures, spilling out sorrow and hope and the intensity of one last, fatal choice. When the light and foreign emotions faded, one of those fearful, arcane feathers mocked him from the safety of Fai's rigid, interlaced fingers.

Ashura woke.

He lay in his bed, eyes open and staring at nothing in particular. Reddish light from the coals in the hearth leaked through the closed bed curtains, but did little to relieve the darkness pressing down upon his soul.

The sleeping potion had finally released its grip upon him, leaving him logy and with a headache. He felt more than a little ill, but not as sick as the night's phantasms left his emotions. "I should have known," he muttered, throwing an arm over his face. "That egg..."

The fluorite egg he had once gifted to Fai's twin brother. He and Fai had placed it in the dead twin's coffin, which now rested beneath the waters of the sacred pool of the castle shrine. Ashura had always known that egg was important. Eggs were symbols of new life and resurrection. The fluorite egg bore a massive power, a strange, disturbing power, something few native magicians of Seresu could long tolerate.

It had been kept locked away in the royal treasure vaults for a long, long time. On nothing more than instinct and a sense that the egg should at last find a purpose, Ashura had retrieved it and placed it in the coffin with Fai's twin brother. He had thought its power would help to preserve the dead twin, and so it did. But more, it served Fai's—Yūi's—destiny.

How irritating, that even his own natural impulses marched in line with the Witch of Dimensions and the dark sorcerer's desires. If ever he had doubted that he was nothing more than fate's tool, that his own ability to dream the future manipulated him, he was harshly corrected now.

Most of that fluorite egg's interior had been obscured with an internal play of light and magic, but through the shimmering power and gleaming crystal could be discerned a shape not unlike a leaf tip—or so he had believed before. Now he knew the truth. Now he knew one of those thrice-cursed feathers was frozen within the polished jewel. And worse, that two more of those calamitous and ill-fortuned things lurked in his own country, waiting to be found. His country held three: two buried in the mountains, and one entombed with Fai's twin brother. His waking vision had told him that, and it had been confirmed by the three feathers held by the dream-Völur he had encountered.

The voices who spoke to him, who demanded he not interfere with Fai's actions, with destiny: his own prophetic ability warning him, informing him of the needs of fate, of the needs of the Witch of Dimensions and the dark sorcerer. Both those magicians needed Fai to perform this task. They both needed Fai to make the coming choices and follow his dreadful calling to his uncertain future.

"It seems fate has decreed your path, my poor Fai," Ashura sighed in the darkness. "It has decreed both our paths. I cannot help you. You must survive on your own. Please...please survive what must come. I will let you go as you must. I will not interfere. Survive the next two days, and please, I beg you, return to me unharmed."


	49. Chapter 49

The next day felt like the longest of Ashura's life.

As usual, the sleeping draught had left him feeling awful and with a sick headache that he knew he would suffer for hours. But physical illness was the least of his problems. The mental stress caused far more anguish. He had to pretend that everything was fine, was normal, and go about his business as he usually would. He could not give even a tiny hint that he knew what the morrow would bring, and the strain of it already wore on him as though he had spent an entire day in battle.

He supposed it could be likened to a battle, one with fate, and even with himself.

He lay in bed longer than his usual wont, feeling sicker and sicker as he worked through all the implications of what not interfering really meant. Not only could he do nothing to assist or protect Fai, but he couldn't even issue a warning to the people of Nyaidem-Yamalo.

He had much experience at disguising warnings to sound reasonable. Throughout his life, a number of his dreams had been like this latest one: inconclusive, with no clear vision of the ultimate outcome, and thus affording him a little maneuvering room. In the past he had used that ambiguity to attempt to guide events to an acceptable conclusion. It was sometimes possible to influence a future course that was still undecided. Altering a known future with a predetermined ending, he had learned to his regret, was much more difficult.

In this case, he could easily say he had received some unsubstantiated reports that the snowpack in the area was unstable. The people should take precautions. The king and his advisors would recommend evacuation. Even should those informal—and nonexistent—reports prove false or over-cautious, he could say, at least the process would serve as a drill and reminder that Seresu's mountains could be treacherous.

Under normal circumstances, that was exactly what he would have done.

Circumstances were not normal.

He could not warn the townsfolk. Fai could sometimes be thoughtless and impulsive, but even he would not risk his life to save an empty town from an avalanche. He had more common sense than that.

Didn't he?

In any case, Ashura could not take the chance that Fai's sense of caution would overrule his impetuosity. A populated town would provide ample motivation for Fai to face that avalanche. In fact, the danger to the townsfolk should guarantee Fai's actions.

Ashura's sick headache got worse.

Finally, he couldn't tolerate his idle fretting any longer and got up, much to the relief of his waiting servants. They were probably worried that his lethargy signaled the onset of some illness.

And so it did. Just not the kind of illness they feared.

After dressing, the first thing Ashura did was visit the apothecary to obtain headache and nausea remedies. If he could not alleviate his worries, he could at least do something for the hangover left by the drug he had taken the night before. The remedies never did a perfect job, but they would take the edge off his physical ailments.

The second thing he did was privately assemble the guardian wizards he usually had watch Fai on his wanderings. "You will not follow the Lord Wizard Fai D Fluorite for the next two days, no matter where he goes outside the castle," he told them.

As expected, they were aghast at the idea of letting Fai traipse about the country without supervision. They glanced at one another with trepidation.

"Majesty," the bravest ventured, "is that a good idea? The Lord Wizard is powerful, more powerful than all of us put together, but he is very young and inexperienced..." She wrung her hands.

Ashura smiled to reassure his minions, despite the pounding headache that made him want to just order them all to shut up and do as they were told. He didn't, because vehemence or choler would draw attention, indicate that his request was something that worried him or was otherwise out of the ordinary. He did not desire curiosity or concern, not in the least. He wanted this to seem normal, unexceptional. He didn't want anyone to give it a second thought.

"I understand your concern," he told them, "but it is not warranted. I only want to observe how Fai handles himself without your background supervision. Do not doubt that he probably knows you are there and acts accordingly. I want to know how he behaves without you, so please do not discuss this amongst any but yourselves. I do not want him to hear of it." He knew his words falsely implied that he himself would watch over Fai. He added, "This is only temporary. The day after tomorrow you will resume your duties to Fai."

The wizards looked relieved, some even smiling and nodding in approval. "An excellent idea, Your Majesty," the brave lady said with honest pleasure. "It is true that our presence probably does keep the Lord Wizard from misbehavior or getting too adventurous on his travels. This way, you will know if any correction or guidance is required."

Hah. They probably thought him a good parent. Ashura knew better. He inclined his head regally, leaving them their delusions, and dismissed them.

In truth, his natural instinct was, indeed, to take over for his wizards as Fai's overseer. He knew he could not.

Instead, he tried to treat Fai as he did on any other day, expecting the child to attend his lessons, to study on his own, to appear at public meals, to practice his arms and his magic. Ashura had to fight his overwhelming desire—his desperate need—to hold Fai, protect him, cosset him beyond even the usual amount of spoiling. He wanted to hover like a protective and somewhat neurotic hen with one precious chick, and struggled mightily to instead act as he would at any normal time.

The day dragged on. Noon came and went, along with the midday meal. The potions Ashura had taken earlier did their jobs, and his sickness dulled and receded into unhappy memory.

He worked for the distraction, reviewing the progress at Nadenda, reading correspondence. A very formal letter from King Jarilo of Thule and his high court officials recommended a few possible dates for Kendappa and Jarilo's marriage. Each, the letter claimed, was quite auspicious and had been vetted by the court stargazers. An accompanying package included the astrological charts for the suggested dates along with several copies of the preliminary marriage contract for Ashura and his own officials to review. Ashura set it all aside. He had too much on his mind. He feared Fai's future; he couldn't bear to consider Kendappa's, as well.

At last, he couldn't stand it anymore. Though he knew he shouldn't, he went to Fai's quarters and took over for Suhail at teaching Fai a magic lesson. He specifically wanted to work with Fai on that self-levitation spell again.

He must have failed in his attempts not to mollycoddle Fai and hang over his every move. While delivering a lecture on the need to be extra careful about using the spell, he noticed that Fai looked impatient and aggravated. Very aggravated, and frustrated. Fai appeared to be restraining a strong urge to throw Ashura against the wall again. Perhaps, Ashura mused, he was hovering a bit too much. He pondered how best to correct his own conduct.

Fai derailed his train of thought by asking abruptly, "Are the Gods' Sacred Fires in the sky alive?"

Ashura blinked, taken aback by the sudden change in topic. "I don't know. I've never thought about it."

"It seems like they might be, you know?"

"What brings this on? It has nothing to do with your lesson."

Fai gnawed his lower lip. "It's kind of been bothering me. I, um, I heard the other day that you shouldn't whistle at the Sacred Fires in the sky, or they will come down and sweep you away."

Ashura raised his brows. "That's a very old folk belief. Is this the first you've heard of it? I'm surprised no one's mentioned it before."

"Is it true?"

"Not to my knowledge," Ashura said with a slight smile. "How did you come across this idea? In a book?"

Fai avoided Ashura's eyes, looking aside self-consciously. "Oh, it just came up in a conversation with some servants or their children or something. I don't really remember who mentioned it, but, you know, it was one of those things. I finally remembered to ask about it."

"Oh?" Ashura queried, amused by the bad attempt at lying. Fai was usually better at deception than this. "I don't mind if you talk to the servants and their children, Fai. You don't need to protect them. But if it makes you feel better, I won't ask for their names." Though princes were usually expected to hold themselves aloof from the servant classes, Ashura had long ago decided that Fai could associate with whomever he pleased. Fai was often too withdrawn, and Ashura was just happy that Fai could interact with any other children. He got along well with his cousins, of course, but they weren't always present in Luval Castle, and Fai needed company his own age. Likewise, other noble children came and went with their parents. Ashura needed to find an excuse to lodge some noble families with children Fai's age in the royal residence permanently. The children could take some lessons together, and Fai could have better quality companions.

Fai looked relieved to hear that his commoner acquaintances weren't in trouble. "I thought it was an interesting story, kind of like a ghost story. I've heard it before," he confessed, "but I always just forgot to ask about it. I thought, you know, that since I can make magic with whistling, that maybe... Well, maybe something would happen."

"I have never heard of an actual case where the Fires were summoned by whistling," Ashura said. "I think we must account that a folk superstition with no basis in reality." He tweaked Fai's nose. "Even for you."

"Oh," said Fai. He looked honestly disappointed.

Ashura couldn't help but smile. "Do you truly wish to be abducted by flickers of colored light?"

"I don't know. Not really, I guess. It just seems like they should be something special. Something magical."

"And so they are. No one knows what they are, or why they come and go as they do. They inspire a great deal of art, music, and even stories. Why, I have even read a story that Luval Castle's wings were designed to resemble them."

"Really?" Fai looked fascinated.

"There is an old account of how the wing spells were created, but it is quite fanciful and probably nothing more than fiction. It is an excellent story, though. I will try to find the book for you."

"I'd like that." Fai whistled a few notes, and a pillow levitated. "Suppose I did something like that under the Sacred Fires, and they came down for me. Do any of the stories say where they take people? Like maybe to another world?" He slanted a sly glance at Ashura. "Maybe you should start teaching me about world-walking, so I could come home if something strange like that happened."

"You are much too young for world-walking." Ashura didn't like this conversation. It reminded him too much of Fai's future and how he would one day go wandering, not in the mountains and towns of Seresu, but among many different and dangerous worlds.

But if Fai was already showing an interest in world-walking, it would be best to supervise him and instruct him carefully. At his young and heedless age, Fai might get lost out in the other worlds, should he try to learn the techniques on his own.

Ashura's own youthful ventures into world-walking had given his caretakers nightmares, because no one else in Seresu could journey to different worlds. That problem didn't apply to Fai. Ashura knew he could always find Fai's magic, so strong was Fai's power and their connection to one another. Nonetheless, it would be better for Fai to learn under controlled conditions. Just to minimize the dangers ever present in the unknown. Ashura knew that he had been extremely lucky to emerge from his own explorations unscathed.

"But I'd still like to try whistling at the Sacred Fires," Fai added. "Just to see for myself."

Ashura felt an impish urge rise in him, mingled with a desperate yearning to make one more happy memory before Fai's destiny overtook him. Who knew how the morrow's events would change Fai, even if Fai should succeed without coming to any physical harm? Ashura looked out the latticework panes of a window. The sun set early in deep winter. Though it was only midafternoon, already the sky was darkening. And, for a miracle, the weather was fine and clear, as well as fiercely cold. Perfect conditions.

He went to the window and opened it up. Frigid air blasted into the room, overpowering the warmth put out by the fire in the hearth.

"Hey!" Fai protested. "It's cold. Shut the window!"

Ashura grinned at him and gestured out at the dim view. Pinpoints of starlight were peeking out, and in the distance rays of red and green flickered as the Fires began to make their appearance in the twilight sky. How fortunate that the skies were clear and the Fires chose to put on their show just when Ashura wanted to see them. "Why don't we go find out for ourselves if whistling calls down the Fires?" he suggested, gesturing to the faint glow.

Fai's eyes lit. "Really?"

"Just the two of us. No guards or court toadies. We can teleport to a clear, open glacier for a good view."

Fai scampered over to the window. "No guards?" he asked cautiously. "You shouldn't go out without at least a few guards."

While Ashura appreciated that Fai understood court protocol, he sometimes thought the child worried too much about such matters. "No one needs to know. You may guard me for this excursion, Lord Wizard. As you keep reminding me, you are the King's Shield." Since they would be going to a remote location secretly, there would be no danger and no need to keep up appearances of consequence. "Get some warm clothes," Ashura said quickly, before Fai could muster other protests.

Fai didn't really wish to have a formal escort, as demonstrated by the speed with which he pulled on his boots, gloves, and two heavy coats. Ashura took that time to similarly attire himself, calling his clothing to him with an apportation spell. He kept his magic subdued so no one would pay attention. Suhail knew he was giving Fai a lesson, so the court wizards would think nothing of his use of any spells. None of his servants would realize he'd taken the outdoor coats, gloves, and footwear unless they felt an urge to check his wardrobe. He and Fai wouldn't be gone long. It should be safe and ruffle no feathers.

"Let's go," he said to Fai, and cast the translocation spell. The magical script encircled them both and carried them off through the hidden spaces where distance meant nothing.

They materialized out on the spot Ashura had chosen: A barren glacier in the northern mountains, with no trees to obscure the view. In the short time he and Fai had taken to prepare and make the journey, the sky had darkened more, and the cold grown more bitter. Still, Ashura thought the breathtaking sight overhead worth the discomfort.

The Fires had become strong and vivid. Long curtains composed of shining, vertical rays climbed high into the sky. Green at their base close to the horizon, they turned bright pink and red towards the zenith of the celestial sphere. Shifting and ever-changing, the spires of color undulated in languid, graceful rhythms among the diamond-sharp stars.

"Magnificent," Ashura said, his breath coming out in a stream of fog. He pulled his furred garments closer about his body, and cast a small warming spell on himself and Fai to protect them from the harsh winter chill. With a smile, he told Fai, "Why don't you try whistling now? If the Fires reach down, I shall protect you from them."

"They'd probably take you, too," Fai replied. He looked troubled by the idea, not recognizing Ashura's comment as mere teasing.

"Do not fear. Though on certain occasions I might venture far afield, I will never be gone long. I shall always dwell in Seresu. I shall be here forever," Ashura said lightly. He would remain with Seresu until the very end, sharing its fate, its ultimate doom to vanish for all time from the wide, vast universe. "Go ahead and whistle."

"What should I whistle?" Fai asked.

"Perhaps a folk song," Ashura suggested. "We are here due to a folk story, so why not a simple folk tune to go with it?"

Fai said, "Oh, I have a better idea." He started whistling a whimsical melody full of ornate grace notes and trills. In a large radius around them the ice glowed with swirls of bright lights, blue and green and yellow, their movements coordinating with the rhythms and fluting pitches. Here and there star-like orbs twinkled to effervescent life in the ice and winked out again, punctuating Fai's magical song.

Fai's music lessons had certainly not gone to waste, Ashura thought, nor his lessons in art and in combining magic with music. "How lovely. Is this the spell you used to light the ice sculptures during the winter festival?"

Fai stopped whistling, letting the enchanted lights fade. "It's not the same spell, but it's similar. It's based on the same principles," he explained, and without any further clarification, whistled some more.

While several falling stars shot across the heavens, none of the Fires swooped down to abduct either Fai or Ashura to worlds beyond human ken. Ashura almost felt disappointed about that. It might be a blessing should mystical spirits whisk them both away from Seresu, away from their cares and their destinies. Alas, he thought wistfully, the gods had other plans, and he and Fai could only accept and make the best of the short time together that they had been granted.

The Gods' Sacred Fires intensified, growing bright enough to cast faint shadows. The ice reflected their colors, so that they mingled with Fai's lights in an astonishing eldritch display.

 


	50. Chapter 50

Watching Fai's magical lights illuminate the glacial ice under the shimmering, multihued curtains of the God's Sacred Fires had been a pleasant diversion from reality. As with all beauty, though, it was an ephemeral experience.

Only a little less than half an hour had passed before the wind picked up and clouds moved in. They didn't look like they'd bring more snow, but they were thick enough to obscure the skies. The celestial show was over. With reluctance, Ashura and Fai said goodbye to their glacier refuge and returned to Luval Castle.

Ashura spent another restless night, though he was untroubled by dreams either prophetic or mundane. No, he simply could not sleep. His mind raced through the long, dark hours. He feared the events the morrow would bring. His knowledge that both the Witch of Dimensions and that vile, polluted sorcerer needed Fai to confront the avalanche for their own purposes brought him no comfort. Fear of avalanches was bred bone-deep in every native Seresian. Ashura had never foreseen the ultimate outcome, and he knew too well that a small misstep, the slightest, tiniest mistake, could alter the future and bring disaster.

Even should Fai survive the encounter unharmed, Ashura feared changes in his sweet boy. Any destiny sought by the Witch and the dark sorcerer would be life altering for the object of their attentions. What would become of his poor Fai?

The morning brought no relief. Darkness persisted. In deep winter the sun rose late, just as it set early. The morning hours could only be relieved by artificial lighting, by fire, by oil lamps and magelights. The darkness in Ashura's thoughts could not be lightened by anything but time and the fulfillment of prophecy for good or for ill.

As with the previous day, he spent his time pretending all was well. He was long accustomed to disturbing nights and capable of disguising weariness so effectively that no one ever noticed that he lacked decent rest. He sat for breakfast with Fai and Kendappa in the private solar, just as normal, and though he took his usual portions he couldn't bring himself to taste any of it.

In contrast, Fai gobbled his food and even had seconds.

"Slow down, Fai," Kendappa told him. "The food's not going to run away from you."

Fai grunted an inarticulate agreement with his mouth full, and continued to eat.

"He's a growing boy, cousin," Ashura said lightly.

"That doesn't mean he can't eat like a well-mannered prince," she retorted.

Fai finished, carefully placed his silverware on his plate to indicate he was done eating, and wiped his hands fastidiously with a napkin. "See, I have manners," he said. "I'm done. May I be excused?"

Ashura allowed not even the slightest sign of concern to mar his features. Fai would do what must be done. He must face alone one of the most feared and calamitous forces in all of Seresu.

"Are you off for your lessons now?" Ashura asked. It was a normal question. Benign. It would not provoke any undue curiosity.

"I only have art and music lessons this morning," Fai said. "Since my cooking lessons are still cancelled," he added, wrinkling his nose, "I thought I'd go exploring afterwards. If that's all right with you?"

Kendappa shook her head in disapproval. Ashura only said, "Yes, you may go. Be careful, Fai," which was his usual response to such announcements from his wandering child.

Fai replied, "I'm always careful!" He waved and ran out the door.

Ashura gazed after his boy and felt a little something inside him break.

"That's not true, you know," Kendappa said.

Rousing himself from his melancholy, Ashura turned to her. "What's not true?"

"What Fai said. I suspect he's never careful. He can be so heedless of his personal safety."

"Perhaps," he responded dully. He didn't disagree at all. Sometimes Fai seemed to care little for his own wellbeing.

The child could be reckless, in magic, in his weapons training, in everything. Even activities as routine as riding and hunting. Sometimes Fai pushed his limits to the brink, riding at breakneck speeds as though driven by wolves that snarled and snapped at his very heels. He would go tearing across fields and jumping over chasms without any thought to potential consequences.

Ashura always allowed it, knowing that Fai would need honed skills and great physical confidence to survive his dark future.

But today...

Would today prove out Kendappa's fears? Would Fai be harmed in some way, in body or in spirit?

"I know we've discussed this before," she went on relentlessly, "but don't you think—?"

"Enough, Kendappa. Fai will be well."

"Yes, I know you have guardians watching over him, but you know how powerful he is. They are no match for him."

"And that power is why he will be well." Ashura didn't mention that he had dismissed Fai's protector-wizards for this important period of time. He had no idea if she'd heard about it. He had instructed the wizards to keep quiet, but gossip was practically a way of life in Luval.

He pushed away from the table, leaving his untouched breakfast. "I must see to some tasks," he said curtly. "Enjoy the rest of your meal, cousin." He ignored her answering glower.

Ashura retreated to his office of state, there to immerse himself in the correspondence he had neglected the day before. Specifically, he reviewed the letter from King Jarilo and the terms proposed in the contract for Kendappa's wedding.

The dates offered all seemed too terribly near. Ashura knew he had to accede to one of them, lest Jarilo withdraw his offer for Kendappa, but to let her go so soon... He had promised Kendappa she could celebrate another festival in Seresu. He would keep her through the spring festival of the King's Sacrifice. That was the most important celebration in the country.

And then he would send her away.

It was for the best, Ashura told himself again, as he had told himself when he'd originally accepted King Jarilo's offer for Kendappa's hand. It would be many years before he massacred everyone in Seresu, but Ashura knew he had to take advantage of opportunities as they arose, and this was a perfect and unexceptional excuse to get Kendappa out of the country. At least he would not murder her when the time finally came to strip away Fai's two curses.

He flinched when a surge of familiar magic sang in his veins and vitals. Teleportation magic, leaving the castle. Fai was off to meet his destiny.

Ashura felt like he needed to throw up.

To distract himself, Ashura summoned Vainamoinen to his office. He announced the wedding date he had selected and discussed some options in the contract. He wanted to add some special clauses to safeguard Kendappa's financial interests in her Seresian property. The forms Jarilo had sent made mention of it, but Ashura wanted everything spelled out in ironclad, unbreakable legal language.

It didn't help. His stomach continued to roil.

"An excellent date, Majesty," Vainamoinen said approvingly. "Quite auspicious for us, as well as for Thule. The spring festival is always a time for new beginnings and growth. I am sure the royal lady will organize a spectacular show before she leaves."

"Yes, I promised her she could stay for at least one more festival and run the castle celebrations however she pleased," Ashura said. "I'm sure she will beggar me in the process."

Vainamoinen laughed heartily. "That will depend on how annoyed she is with you."

"Since she will be departing for Thule only a few weeks later, I am certain she will be quite annoyed with me." Ashura offered a lukewarm smile. "I am resigned."

"I would think you would be accustomed by now to Lady Kendappa's extravagance."

"I am." Ashura picked at his thumbnail. "I will miss her terribly."

"You are both fine wizards capable of translocation spells. You will be able to visit one another."

Ashura shook his head. "She will be Queen of Thule, as I am King of Seresu. You know that neither of us will be able to visit the other on a whim. There are too many obstacles, expectations, duties, and constraints. Elaborate planning and timing is required. At best, it would be like Ukko's visit during the winter festival: brief and overly structured, with a lot of ceremony and display, and little in the way of family intimacy. In any case, any kind of visit wouldn't be the same as having her here all the time."

"You regret the treaty with Thule?" Vainamoinen's question was sharp.

Ashura uttered a disparaging little laugh. "Do not fear that I will change my mind about it. I know this is best for everyone." Especially Kendappa. "I'm just a little moody today, that's all."

"Yes, Majesty," Vainamoinen murmured in a satisfied tone. He added, "Perhaps Your Majesty would like some tea?"

Idly, Ashura drew some glowing lines on his desk with his index finger. "That might be nice."

"And perhaps some pastries? Lady Kendappa mentioned that you didn't eat any of your breakfast this morning. Perhaps a snack might provide some comfort?"

"Perhaps." Ashura felt too edgy to notice hunger, but it would make his chief councilor happy. He banished his magical doodle. It vanished without a trace.

"This wedding is for the best, you know," Vainamoinen said gently. "The alliance with Thule will serve Seresu well for many years." He bowed and backed toward the door. "I shall have a servant bring your tea, Majesty."

It seemed Vainamoinen had had enough of Ashura's melancholia. Usually the chief councilor would remain, and they would both enjoy a cup and some light conversation, or discuss other kingdom matters. Not this time, though.

Ashura didn't mind. He preferred to be alone with his thoughts and fears. Really, he did.

He sighed after Vainamoinen had departed. Tea and pastries would not help. Nothing would help.

He was a fool.

He apported into his hands the cube-shaped imaging crystal Fai had given him during the winter festival. The default picture on it was the family portrait of himself, Kendappa, and Fai. He smiled sadly at it for a long time.

Nothing lasted forever, no matter how much one might wish it.

Ashura touched the crystal to cycle through the images until he reached the one of Fai in all his glory as a D-titled wizard: Proud, resplendent in royal robes and jewels, holding his magnificent staff, bathed in moonlight. He cradled the crystal with fondness, indulging in memories of the splendid night Fai had been invested with his D title.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't warn you, Fai," he said softly to the image in the crystal. "I'm sorry I couldn't warn the town. I'm sorry about everything."

He lifted his head at the polite knock on his door. "Yes?"

A maidservant slipped in, bearing an ornate, silver tea tray. She curtseyed. "Majesty, your tea."

"Just put it on my desk." He gestured to an empty spot before him.

The maid did so and departed.

Ashura couldn't help smiling at the tray. Not only was there a teapot, cup, and the promised pastries, but also a tempting variety of smoked meats, cheeses, bread and butter, cloudberry jam, several types of fruit, and even a bowl of warm porridge. Vainamoinen must think him ravenous.

He didn't touch a bite.

Instead, he set down the crystal and went to the hearth. The fire burning cheerily there could not thaw the ice in his heart.

I should have warned Fai, he thought. I should have warned the town. Destiny be hanged.

"I am a monster," he said to the flames. They snapped and crackled in agreement.

Perhaps Vainamoinen was right. Perhaps he should force himself to eat something. Food might ground him. Then again, he might vomit it all right back up.

Maybe just a sip or two of tea would help settle his stomach.

He turned and took a step toward his desk.

A tsunami of wild magic slammed into him. He gasped and fell to his knees. A terrifying boom split his eardrums, followed by deafening thunder that filled him with horror. A billowing wall of white raced straight at him. It rushed down steep slopes and jagged mountains at impossible speed, spreading out and devouring everything in its path.

Behind him lay the town of Nyaidem-Yamalo. Before him, a small boy held a great golden staff against the deluge of snow and ice. The staff's crescent moon flashed, identifying its owner.

_Fai_ , Ashura tried to say, but he had no voice. At Fai's command, spell-runes flared into being. Magic burst forth and formed into an immense shield. Such a shield as had never been created in all of Seresu's history: one stretching far beyond the town's borders, soaring higher than the avalanche's leading edge. The staff's fluorite crystal blazed with the light of a thousand suns, and Ashura had to squint to avoid being blinded.

With staggering fury, the avalanche smashed against that awesome power. The force and violence shook him; the snow and debris blasted into him, tearing at his hair and clothes. He ducked down behind his son, using his arms to shield his face and head from winter's nightmarish onslaught. Like the townsfolk, he was but another potential victim, sheltered and protected from the destructive barrage by his little boy and that magnificent shield.

Icy powder thrashed and churned. Furious, freezing winds mixed with loose snow battered him. The monstrous, frozen flow drove forward. Drove and drove, and broke. Broke.

Unable to climb or push through that massive, breathtaking shield, the avalanche diverted and split to the sides, surging around and past him. The crashing white monster roared, whipping up tremendous winds: a mad, hideous behemoth thrashing with unimaginable strength. Ashura barely kept himself from crying out in terror and huddled down as the white death screamed by, rushing down the mountain on either side of him.

The avalanche thundered past, past him and Fai, past the town.

The untouched town.

The town and all its people were safe.

Fai was safe.

Just as suddenly, the world shifted back to his office of state in Luval Castle. Blinking and panting, Ashura swung his head back and forth. Everything was normal, mundane. The fire burned in the hearth, the tea tray awaited him on his desk.

Still unable to absorb the immensity of the event he had just experienced, Ashura could only lurch to his feet, uttering shakily, "What was that?"

But he knew.

He knew and he couldn't stop trembling.


	51. Chapter 51

Ashura staggered to a chair and spent a few minutes regaining his composure.

Then he got up, left his office and stalked through the corridors.  He had no real destination in mind, he just needed to burn off some nervous energy and think through his next actions.  He ignored everyone he passed, torn between rage, panic, and a desire to sweep Fai up into a hug and never let him go. 

He hated destiny.  He hated the Witch of Dimensions and the dark sorcerer who both manipulated others' lives to advance their own agendas.  He didn't care that the Witch had good intentions.  He hated her just the same.

He hated the prophetic dreams that drove him to bow to the demands of fate.

He hated himself for capitulating.

Fai was still just a little boy!  He should not be a pawn of destiny, not yet, not so young.  He should be enjoying his childhood, playing games and learning to become a proper noble landholder, wizard, and warrior, not taunting death and testing the outermost limits of his power and risking his very life for the sake of...of everything?  Even now, even now, Fai's actions mattered to the future, to all creation.

It was so wretchedly unfair! 

Ashura panted as he relived the avalanche and how Fai's terrible, terrifying power had stopped it.  He caught himself before he started screaming.  He needed to calm down.  Calm.  He couldn't let anyone see him like this.  People would ask questions.  Everything must appear normal.

He slowed his pace, breathing in controlled patterns as he walked.  Draw in air for four steps.  Exhale slowly for another four.  Repeat.

Repeat, repeat, repeat.

He felt better.

It didn't matter that prophecy was fulfilled, that destiny was satisfied.  It didn't matter that Fai's actions served the Witch and the sorcerer alike.  All that mattered was Fai.  Fai had survived.  It was a blessing, Ashura told himself, that he had witnessed Fai's success, had seen for himself that Fai was safe.  His turmoil was stupid.  Fai was safe, and now everything would be fine.

His mindless flight had led him to his throne room.  He stopped and stared at the imposing double doors, wondering why he had come to this place.

Two guards flanked the doors.  They bowed to him.  "Your Majesty?" one queried diffidently.  "Do you require anything?"

"I..."  Ashura hesitated.  "Nothing, I need nothing."

But that wasn't true, not at all.  He needed Fai.  He needed to see for himself—in person, not through magical sensations—that Fai was well.

So he must wait until Fai returned.  This was as good a place as any.

He lifted a hand, willing the doors to swing open.  He said to his guards, "Allow none but the Lord Wizard Fai D Fluorite to disturb me.  Him I will see at any time."

He entered, and closed the doors behind him.

The throne room was the most formal, authoritative, and intimidating setting in all of Luval Castle.  Aside from him, it was empty.  At the far end lay the tall, massive dais and the great throne of Seresu.  With his entrance, blue fires burst into blazing life in the firepots that lined the steps up to the throne.  The polished white marble of floor and walls reflected the dancing flames, throwing eerie shadows about the chamber.

The throne's intricate carvings seemed to glow in the magical light.  A thick fur upon the seat cushioned the cold, unyielding stone, yet provided no impression of warmth or ease.  The throne of Seresu was not intended to be comfortable, but rather to assert its own authority over both the ruler and the ruled.  It was permanent, while kings were not.

Ashura gazed at his throne, unsure what to do next.  He thought over his words to his guards.  Did he really expect Fai to come here?

No, he had no idea when Fai would return, nor where he would next encounter his child.  He simply needed the solitude of the immense, empty throne room.

He wandered about without direction, touching the columns of cool stone that lined the room, stroking his fingers on the satiny smooth finish.  His mind was blank.

He turned and walked to the dais and throne, the symbols of supreme authority.  Perhaps he should arrange to have Fai meet him here.  This place grounded him, calmed him.  It forced him to remember all his responsibilities.

A shiver of magic stroked along his spine:  teleportation magic.  Fai had returned to Luval.

Ashura stopped walking.  When a few minutes passed without incident, he took a deep breath and mounted the dais.

Another touch of magic, this time an active seek spell, carrying with it a hint of query.  Ashura hesitated part way up the steps.  He sent back an acknowledgement and permission.

He reached out to his throne, but didn't touch it.  "I don't know what to say to him."

No, that wasn't true.  He did know.  He would behave normally.  He would congratulate Fai on his amazing success.  Fai had saved a town, an entire valley, from a massive avalanche.  Nyaidem-Yamalo had been completely untouched.  There had been no damage, no casualties, not even one insignificant injury among the townsfolk.  It was truly an awesome feat, a miracle, and he would praise Fai for the achievement.

He would behave as he always did when Fai performed such incredible deeds.

He would not stifle Fai, nor crush his sense of adventure, not when he had worked so hard to encourage Fai's independence and confidence in himself.  Ashura smiled fondly at the thought.  Fai definitely had a sense of adventure.  He loved new foods, new clothes, new magic, new everything.  It drove his explorations about the country.  He saw the sights, met the people.  He hungered for more knowledge and fresh experiences.

Ashura's smile faded.  Fai also had a great sense of responsibility to his adopted home.  Why else serve Seresu so diligently?   Unblocking ice floes from rivers, melting frozen lakes so people could fish and have drinking water, even the impossible feat of stopping a raging avalanche in its tracks...Fai did it all without complaint, without even being asked.  No one expected a nine-year-old to be so dutiful and self-sacrificing.

And if his senses of adventure and responsibility helped to save the future, well, that was what the great powers of the universe wanted, was it not?

So Ashura would congratulate Fai, and reward him.

He trembled, just a tiny bit.  The mystic fires flickered, reacting to his disturbed aura.

The throne room's great doors swung open and Fai walked in.  He must have hurried straight to Ashura to have arrived so soon.  The child had not even taken the time to remove his heavy outer garments, and he still bore his tall, powerful staff.

To steady himself, Ashura laid one hand on the throne's nearest armrest.  He tightened his magical defenses, keeping his power locked down, closing out his impressions to the various auras surrounding him.  Nothing ordinary leaked in or out.  He suppressed his emotions just as tightly.  He couldn't defend himself fully from Fai's overwhelming power, but he hoped to minimize his contact to it for this particular confrontation.

Thus braced, he composed his features to present an outward appearance of calm, and turned to face Fai.

He was horrified by what he beheld, and even more by what pressed past his defenses and into his senses at close range.

Fai's appearance was downcast, almost gloomy, as he formally announced himself.  There was a defeated, dejected air about him, as though misery beyond endurance weighed him down.  His eyes, usually so expressive, lacked their normal light, and he kept them focused down at the floor.  The sight made Ashura hurt for him.  So much like how he had been when Ashura had first rescued him from the prison pit in Valeria...

It was wrong, so wrong.  Ashura couldn't understand what had caused such an emotional regression in Fai.

This was the day of his greatest magical triumph.  Fai should be pleased, even ecstatic.  He should be overweening in his pride, as he often was when he had pulled off other great achievements.  He should not be behaving as though he had been condemned to the lowest of all the hells.

What had happened after Fai had conquered that most fearful of natural foes, the avalanche?  What had caused this new emotional fragility?  Ashura couldn't bear to see Fai so disconsolate, his spirit so damaged.

Warily, Ashura opened up a crack in his magical defenses, opened himself to impressions from Fai, hoping to discover something, anything.  His own aura barely brushed Fai's, as lightly as a feather's merest tip.

An inferno crashed into him, a blast of feral, barely restrained power so large it filled the room to overflowing.  It was enormous, so vast it might cover all of Seresu should Fai stretch it out like the broad wings of some ravenous bird of myth.  Vast enough to eat the whole world—

Ashura slammed shut his magical awareness and schooled his features into a bland, unreadable mask.

How? he wondered frantically.  How had he missed that much growth of Fai's power?  How?  How?

He always sensed Fai's exercise of magic so easily, and sometimes painfully.  He had experienced the breaking of the avalanche with impossible clarity.  He could track Fai's magic anywhere, even, if necessary, to other worlds.  And Fai often performed magic that was breathtaking in its enormity and power.  Why, Ashura thought, had he never before realized what all that meant?

He should have known immediately, he should have known, when sudden images and sensations—real images, real experiences, not just impressions or feelings—of the avalanche and Fai's actions had come unbidden to him without a deliberate summoning, without the aid of a scrying spell.  Images and sensations so clear and real that he had experienced them as though he were actually there, witnessing the unfolding of events from a vantage point right behind Fai.  He had never before had such immersion in Fai’s activities.

Fai's power grew every time he used it.  His massive expenditure of magic against the avalanche had caused it to increase in proportion to the threat he had defeated.  And since he had come to Seresu he had routinely exercised his power in much greater ways than the most powerful magicians in the land, the highly trained wizards of Ashura's royal court.

I have been blind, Ashura thought.  Deliberately blind to what was happening right in front of me all along.

He'd had so many clues over the past two years, so many examples of Fai's growing strength.  Had he always been aware on some level, just in denial, and now was forced to acknowledge the truth by Fai's triumph over that avalanche?  A feat no other magician in all the world could have accomplished, a mastery over one of the most destructive natural forces that Seresu had to offer.

To himself, he admitted why he had never considered the notion in all his fretting about the avalanche.  He could not lie about it any longer.  He had blinded himself to the truth out of guilt and regret, out of denial of necessity and fate.

Ashura had always known this day was coming.  He had prepared, but never acknowledged that it was already long past time to put his preparations to their intended use.  In his deepest heart, he had never truly wanted to tamper with Fai's power, had never wanted to see his child begin taking irrevocable steps on the path of destiny.

How foolish he was.  Destiny could never be denied.  Never.  He knew that; he had bowed to that knowledge by letting Fai face the avalanche without interference.

And now...now...

Not only had Fai's magic grown so great, but Ashura also sensed something more:  something strange, a glimmer of disturbing, world-altering power.  Power not of Seresu, power emanating from not one but two objects, both sheltering inside Fai's magical aura.  Ashura recognized that power with loathing.  It was just like the power resting—or perhaps lurking would be a better description—beneath the waters of the sacred pool, dormant and waiting with Fai's deceased twin brother.

Ashura's visions came back to him with brutal clarity:  visions of two feathers swept into the snow and ice of Seresu's mountains.  Somehow, Fai had found them, claimed them, and brought them home.

This was what the Witch of Dimensions and the dark sorcerer had needed Fai to do.  This was what destiny had demanded of the poor child.

It wasn't fair.  It wasn't fair that the dark sorcerer sought to break the universe for some unknown wish.  It wasn't fair that the Witch used the lives and wishes of others in her quest to thwart the sorcerer's desires.

Life itself wasn't fair.

There was only one thing Ashura could do now.  He should have done it long ago.  He should have done it the instant the restraining spell was complete.

He had made a terrible mistake with his dithering and his willful blindness to Fai's growing magical power.  Were all his own plans in jeopardy now? Were they even still possible?

Had they ever been?

He thought about his first meeting with Fai, and how he had been so overawed by the power he had sensed in the child.  Perhaps Fai had always been too powerful, even from the very beginning.  Perhaps Ashura's own plans had never truly been feasible.

What if he could never catch up to Fai, even with the magical marking to constrain further growth of Fai's power?

No matter what, though, Ashura knew he must try.  Try and succeed.  He must succeed, no matter the cost, lest in the long future the dark sorcerer would win and Fai's curses destroy him.

That doom couldn't truly be Fai's fate, could it?

Ashura couldn't allow it to happen, but now he could only pray he was not too late.

"Welcome home," he said with studied—and entirely false—calm.  "It seems that you prevented the avalanche from harming the valley."

Fai looked surprised.  "How did you know?"

"I know."  And then Ashura at last confessed openly that he could track Fai's magic anywhere, even to other worlds.  He said it with artificial cheer, hiding his own terror, hoping his admission might provide some kind of comfort.  Fai had expressed a desire to learn world-walking, and surely the knowledge that he could not get lost while doing so would reassure him.

But Fai only looked even more despondent.  He stared at the floor, unwilling to meet Ashura's eyes.  The firepots' burning flames cast gloomy shadows upon Fai's somber face, hollowing his eyes to make him look so terribly sad and depressed.

And then, out of the blue, Fai raised his head and asked about Ashura's wish:  the wish Ashura had once foolishly mentioned when he'd first met Fai in Valeria.  No, Fai did not merely ask.  He commanded a response.

It had been two years.  Ashura had never mentioned it again after that fateful day, yet the child remembered.  Why it preying on his mind now?  Had the events of the avalanche triggered some old, bad memories?  Was it something Ashura had said, or simply destiny's cruel whim that Fai should suddenly recall and demand an answer?

No, Ashura knew the truth of this, as well as all the rest.  He could not lie to himself.  Fai must have recognized in Ashura's falsely cheerful tone something that disturbed him, and he had linked it to that wish.  Fai had promised service to another before Ashura, reprehensible service to the terrible dark sorcerer.  He must now wonder what service Ashura also required of him.  Though Fai didn't know what Ashura's wish was, he seemed to fear it, and it had triggered other, older, fears from his past.

Fai might not know the truth of that wish, but his fear was justified.

What a disaster this day was proving to be.

The rest of the conversation was entirely too painful, with Fai's insecurities out in full force.  Ashura did not intend to tell Fai anything substantial about that wish, not until absolutely necessary.  Fai was so young, he would never understand.  An honest answer would destroy him.  Ashura prevaricated, couching his original wish in vague generalities of helping the country, protecting it from any destroyer, service he knew Fai would agree to perform without hesitation.  Poor Fai had no idea what he would promise.

But then, somehow, he found himself blurting out the ugly truth.

Why?  Why had he spoken so?

Had his own guilt caused him to confess?  Was it the trust in Fai's face, trust Ashura knew he didn't deserve?  Did he only desire to justify himself?

Fai's undisguised horror made Ashura panic, and in that wild rush of emotion the unthinkable seemed reasonable and necessary.  He bespelled Fai's mind and adjusted the child's memories to remove knowledge of the confession.

It was a betrayal horrible beyond belief, but it easily led to what Ashura had to do next.

It was for the best.  It was for Fai's own good.

It would save Fai from the dark sorcerer's curses.

So Ashura told himself.

Then Ashura steeled himself for the agonizing task of crippling his precious child's magic.

 


	52. VI:  Like Sunshine

 

**VI:  Like Sunshine**

 

It was pointless to try to conceal Fai's feat, or even to let it pass quietly.  It was not a quiet accomplishment.  It was a miracle, the stuff of legends, and an entire town had witnessed it.  The story would spread like wildfire, and, as was always the way with such tales, the magnitude of Fai's accomplishment would grow ever larger with each retelling.

Ashura's own mix of remorse and guilt, he knew, was the only reason he even considered downplaying Fai's spectacular triumph.

Guilt, for binding Fai's power, the power that had conquered an avalanche, the very power that ought to be celebrated.  And more guilt, even worse, for abusing Fai's trust and disregarding Seresian law and taboos by altering Fai's memories.  He had broken precepts both secular and divine.

What had he been thinking, telling Fai the truth of his own, horrible wish?  He could have spun any story he liked and Fai would have accepted it.  There had been no need to be honest.

Guilt, a desperate need to expunge his own culpability, a longing for Fai to understand...That was all.

That, and a moment of weakness.

Seeing the shock and horror in Fai's young, vulnerable face, in his too expressive eyes when he realized what the phoenix marking really meant—Ashura had panicked, and had compounded his crimes, his lies, and his guilt a hundredfold by tampering with Fai's mind.  He had caught Fai in a trance and soothed him, numbed his emotions.  That in itself wasn't unpardonable; in the past he had often calmed Fai with gentle, lullaby-like magic.  This particular spell, though, was a direct assault on the mind, and Ashura had broken Seresian law to use it without legal authorization.  And worse, he hadn't stopped at that; he had committed the ultimate crime of telling the truth, and then suppressing it and replacing the void left behind with the belief that the marking was a gift and an aid for magical control, not the key to a horrific destiny.

He had violated Fai's trust, violated Seresian law and custom.  He had sinned this day in the most grievous ways possible, and there could never be any forgiveness for those sins.  He had known for a long time that he must be destroyed by his own destiny, by the necessary crimes he must commit to save his precious child, and he had taken yet one more irrevocable step on that path to damnation.

Foreknowledge that he would one day pay for his crimes did not make his misdeeds any less bitter in the present.

Setting the phoenix pattern upon Fai had been anticlimactic.  The spell had been made for Fai, designed to blend and meld with his unique, mystical signature, aura, and idiosyncrasies.  Ashura had spent over a year designing and constructing that spell:  the most perfect, the most complete, the most beautiful and terrible spell he would ever create in his life.  His dreadful masterpiece.

One magical command, and it was done.  The marking passed through Fai's clothing and settled upon his skin like the lightest, most gossamer of fine silks, its careful magics integrating easily with Fai's own magical essence.

It had taken but a few seconds to cripple Fai.  So gentle, so painless and effortless.  Surely a maiming of such enormity should have hurt Fai.  But Fai only seemed to snuggle into it, saying, "I always like your magic.  It feels so warm.  Thank you."

Oh, the guilt.  Ashura had never experienced such terrible, soul-destroying guilt as Fai's words evoked.

Ashura was so tired.  Tired from lack of sleep, but more, tired and worn thin from pretending that the world was normal, that he was normal, that annihilation wasn't just around the corner.  Tired of pretending he was a good parent when instead he maimed his child, no matter that it was for Fai's own good.  Utterly exhausted by presenting a kind smile to the world while inside he was losing his mind and dying by inches.

He could not turn back, yet he wanted to hide himself away, to find a deep, dark cave in the farthest reaches of the mountains and bury himself there, groveling and cowering like a disgusting, base criminal.  He was unfit for human company, and should instead dwell with the bats and vermin and filth that would infest such a place.  How could he face his court?  How could he face his wizards?

Word of Fai's new marking would surely spread.  The most powerful mages would discern its presence right away, and the lesser would hear of it from the greater if they did not notice it themselves.  The marking itself was large and visible to the naked eye, covering Fai's entire back and even parts of his upper arms.  The servants who helped him bathe and dress would gossip and even ask about it, and Fai would tell them the lie that Ashura had placed in his mind:  That it was a magical pattern, a special gift from the king, a kind of magical control on power that sometimes got out of hand.

And, if asked, Ashura would confirm that falsehood.

How, Ashura wondered, could he ever look Fai in the eyes again?  He feared that every time he saw Fai, he would be reminded of what he had done and what he had yet to do.

But he must continue on, he must, for Fai's sake, for the sake of the universe.

Everything must seem normal.  Everything must seem fine.

And so, Ashura took Fai to court in Luval Castle's Great Hall.  A large number of courtiers were presently socializing:  Taishakuten, Vainamoinen, Kendappa, and many others of importance.  Three of special note were D-titled wizards:  Suhail, Lord Syed D Greenstone, and Lady Nilima D Tyagi.  They, along with Fai, were part of the most select and elite group in all of Seresu:  they were four of the five D-titled wizards.

Ashura barely kept himself from flinching when those wizards' gazes immediately locked on Fai.  Suhail's face reflected first shock and surprise and then, strangely, seeming approval and even relief.  He turned his eyes to Ashura and tried to initiate magical contact, but Ashura didn't make any acknowledgement and refused the private communication.

He ordered the musicians to play a splendid fanfare.  Under the scrutiny of his courtiers and servants, he led Fai up the dais, and there he set Fai upon his own, central chair.  It was far too large for the little boy, and his feet dangled a little above the floor, but Ashura thought he looked perfect there.

With Fai thus enthroned, Ashura stood at Fai's right side, and smiled down at his son when Fai looked at him with confusion.  When the music faded and he had his court's curious attention, he made the announcement.

"My friends and loyal subjects, today is a day of great significance.  Today my dearly beloved ward, the Lord Wizard Fai D Fluorite, has performed the most magnificent feat of magic in living memory.  Indeed, his achievement ranks among the greatest in all our country's long history."

He paused for effect, grinning at the anticipation he saw in his audience's many faces.  Despite his own guilt at what he had done to Fai, he was truly proud of his child.  Kendappa caught his gaze and sent a chiding message on a thread of private magical communication:  "You're being dramatic again.  Get on with it."

At least she hadn't said it aloud.  He winked at her, and her disapproval grew.

"You will all hear the news soon anyway, so let me be the first to tell of it," he continued.  "Today, another massive avalanche beset one more of our mountain communities."  He waited out the worried murmurs and rustlings.  "There is no need for concern," Ashura told his court.  "This fortunate town and all its people are safe and untouched.  For, you see, this day the Lord Wizard Fai D Fluorite was present.  With his great power, he created a most wondrous barricade that broke the avalanche and spared the town."

For a moment, there was dead silence.  Every magician present looked stunned by the enormity of what Ashura had just announced.  The rest of the courtiers knew enough about magic and its limitations to be almost as shocked.

Before they could regain their equilibrium, Ashura spoke again:  "It was a most fortuitous circumstance that Lord Fai should visit the town of Nyaidem-Yamalo at just the right time.  For those who do not recognize it, this town nestles in a valley surrounded on all sides by steep mountain slopes.  It is a pretty little place, but in a terribly dangerous location.  I know not what whim took my son there, but we all know how he likes to explore.  Today the trust I have in Lord Fai and his wayfaring was proved justified, and an entire community of people owe their very lives to him and his amazing powers."

He stepped down to the midpoint on the dais's stairs and turned toward Fai.  Fai gaped at him from his place on the highest, most important seat in the Great Hall.  Indeed, Fai had been frozen and silent throughout the entire speech.  Ashura wondered if he was embarrassed or just plain horrified to be put on such display.

It was a necessary display, and in any case Fai deserved to receive accolades for his marvels this day.  Ashura would not stint him.

"And so I do honor to the Hero of Nyaidem-Yamalo, the King's Shield and Champion of Seresu, the High and Magnificent Lord Wizard Fai D Fluorite."  With that last proclamation, Ashura bowed deeply to Fai.

Throughout the Great Hall, clothing whispered and jewels tinkled as everyone present bowed, paying obeisance to Fai along with their king.

Fai turned bright red.  "What do I do now?" he whispered softly to Ashura.

From his bent position, Ashura whispered as quietly, "Just try to look regal.  It's what I always do when there's nothing for it but be an object of awe."  Fai did not look particularly thrilled with that suggestion, but he improved his posture and held his head higher.

Ashura straightened and returned to Fai's side.  He grasped Fai's hand and held it up.  "All hail the Lord Wizard Fai D Fluorite!"

Jumbled cries of "Hail!  Hail Lord Fai!" filled the Hall, amid a great deal of cheering and applause.

"Today we shall feast in your honor, O Most Mighty Lord Wizard," Ashura told Fai when the shouts died down.  He turned to a court servant.  "Send word that the most sumptuous of dishes shall be prepared, and especially those desserts most beloved by the Lord Fai."

The servant rushed out of the room.  Fai looked like he wanted to follow.  Ashura took pity on him and sat down in the chair next to him.  "Musicians, something spritely!" he ordered.  "Everyone, dance and take joy in this most marvelous of days."

"Yes, that will keep them preoccupied," Kendappa commented as she ascended the dais.  "You were quite theatrical and pompous, you know."  She curtseyed to Fai, who reddened again.

"You don't have to do that," Fai complained.

"Of course I do, child," she replied.  "The king's speech demands it."  She sat down next to Ashura and spoke over him as though he wasn't even present.  "So, Fai, tell me how you did it."

"Stop the avalanche, you mean?  I just, well, I just made a shield big enough to block it," Fai said earnestly.  "It was big and strong enough so the avalanche would split and go around the town, rather than ram straight into it."  He looked down.  "That's all.  It wasn't any kind of special new spell or anything."

"That's all?" Kendappa echoed incredulously.  "Oh, poor child, you must have been so frightened."

"I...  Only a little," Fai admitted.  "I've never made anything that big before, but when I heard the mountains rumble I knew I had to do something.  I couldn't let all those people die like the people at Nadenda.  I just couldn't."

"Of course you couldn't," Kendappa agreed.  She cast Ashura a look that promised future words with him, but quickly masked it and smiled at Fai.  "You did the right thing, Fai.  It was wonderful.  You deserve all the honors you have received."

"And more," Ashura put in.

Fai ducked his head.  "It's enough," he mumbled.

"Oh, so you don't want the feast, then?" Ashura queried.  "I did order that it include your favorite desserts."

"We can have the feast!" Fai said quickly, and added, "I mean, everyone would be so disappointed if you changed your mind about that."

Ashura chuckled.  Never let it be said that Fai would turn down any delicious foods, let alone his favorites.  "Yes, we can't disappoint our subjects, can we?  How thoughtless that would be."

"It would be very thoughtless," Fai said gravely.

"Indeed."

The musicians began a new set for the dancers.  Lady Kendappa stood and again curtseyed to Fai.  "My most esteemed Lord Wizard, will you do me the honor of this dance?"

"I'm supposed to ask you," he said with a small, reproving frown.

"Ah, but if I waited for you to ask, I would never get my dance," she riposted lightly.

"Go dance with her, Fai," Ashura said.  When Fai looked mulish, Ashura added to tempt him, "It will get you out of that central chair, at least.  And when you are finished, you can sit wherever you like."

That was all the encouragement Fai needed.  He was up in a trice, bowed to Kendappa, and with a rushed and poor semblance of dignity led her out to the dance floor.  How uncomfortable he must have been in my seat, Ashura thought with amusement.

Suhail approached and bowed.  "Your Majesty, may I speak with you?"

Ashura knew what was coming next.  There was no avoiding it.  He had seen how the D-titled wizards had recognized the magic set upon Fai, the surprised expression that had crossed Suhail's features.  There was no doubt; the most powerful were already aware.  It was only a matter of time until more mage-folk knew.  So far, though, Suhail and his peers seemed to be the only ones who had noticed.  That made some sense, Ashura reluctantly admitted.  The D-titled wizards were the most powerful of the court magicians.  Suhail had been Ashura's former instructor in magic, as well.  He had much experience with the flavor and essence of Ashura's magic.

The restraining spell would not remain unknown for long, though.

Ashura looked out at the court, at the dancers, and smiled to see Fai with Kendappa.  They were quite a mismatched pair, with his head not quite reaching the height of her chest, yet they managed to move well together and perform the dance steps with grace.  But then, Fai had danced with Kendappa many times before.  They had long ago learned to gauge and accommodate one another's paces.

With reluctance, he nodded to Suhail and rose.  "Come with me," he said, and led Suhail to a small room.  It was common enough for him to hold private conversation with various members of his court and should provoke no curiosity.  Despite the thick walls and door that muffled sound, he hoped Suhail would moderate his words and not make a scene.  He hoped Suhail would listen to reason and restrain his temper at least for this one night.

It was a terrible, unthinkable thing he had done to Fai, an act worthy of those vile oppressors in Arimaspea.  His highest wizards were probably horrified by the thought that Ashura might consider doing the same any who should happen to annoy him.  Should his misdeed become known for what it truly was—an act of maiming rather than a gift of control—the repercussions would echo throughout the magical community.  All would follow Suhail's lead regarding such an appalling misuse of magic.  Ashura had to tread very, very carefully.

Mindlessly, Ashura gestured to a chair, and Suhail groaned as he settled himself into it.  "I'm getting so old," the chief wizard complained.  He stroked his long, gray beard, combing out a few imaginary knots.  His fidgeting betrayed his nerves at confronting his sovereign.

"Do you really think so?  You look much the same as you did when I was Fai's age and you were my tutor in magic," Ashura commented provocatively, moving to stand before him.

Suhail eyed him with disfavor.  "Yes, Your Majesty, that's probably true."

Ashura looked longingly at the closed door, already wishing for escape.  "I know what you want to discuss," he said to forestall any polite small talk and get to the heart of the matter.  He was in no mood to play word games with Suhail.  "Fai."

"Majesty, you are correct.  What you did to the Lord Fai, curbing his power—" Suhail began, but Ashura interrupted him.

"It had to be done.  I'm sorry for it, and I will live with the guilt forever, but..."  He couldn't speak further.  He couldn't tell Suhail the truth about why it had to be done.  What could he say to excuse his crime against Fai?  What could he say to reassure his wizard that the spell would never be used again?

"It...It doesn't actually stifle or reduce his existing power," Ashura went on, picking at a rough spot of skin on his thumb.  The attention did it no favors, and he stopped before he drew blood.  "Even I'm not powerful enough to accomplish that.  The spell only restricts further growth.  Fai is as powerful now as when he first returned from stopping that avalanche today."

"And that is shockingly, horrifyingly powerful, Majesty," Suhail said with sympathy.

Ashura stared at him.

"Majesty, you seem to be expecting censure.  I assure you, nothing could be further from my mind."

"Restricting the growth of Fai's power is not worthy of censure?" Ashura asked in disbelief.

"With any other magician, yes, absolutely, but the Lord Fai..."  Suhail's fingers again passed through his beard.  He let out a long sigh.  "Majesty...  Majesty, the Lord Fai is a special case, and...  Well, I..."  He cleared his throat.  "I—and the other D-title wizards—we have long been contemplating how to bring this issue to your attention.  You were always so proud of his accomplishments and his sheer strength."

"I still am."

"Yes, well, but that very power has been a matter of concern among the court wizards for some time.  Lord Fai is reasonably well behaved and biddable now, but as he grows older..."  Suhail cleared his throat.  "Your Majesty, many among the strongest and most knowledgeable feared his nearing adolescence outright, and the power levels he would achieve even before then."

"You don't fear his adolescence now?"

"Oh, we still do, but I am comforted to know that Your Majesty is not blinded by pride to its looming problems and dangers."

Ashura uttered a snort of amusement.  He pulled over another chair and sat next to the leader of his court wizards.  "I've always been aware of them.  But what I have done today will not alleviate them.  We will still have those problems."

"But they will not be compounded by extreme new growth of his power.  He will have time to come into understanding of how to use his existing power, and can more gradually become accustomed to wielding it.  It will make things easier."

"Easier," Ashura said, shaking his head.  "I did not do this to make our lives easier."

"Safer, then," Suhail amended with twisted lips.  "For all of us.  For him, too."

Ashura stared again, sitting up straight and rigid, anger congealing in his gut at that last statement.  Suhail would dare make such a suggestion?  "You and the other wizards are not to touch him.  I do not want to hear such a threat again.  The consequences, my lord, would be dire for you all."

Suhail met his gaze without flinching.  "I am speaking openly and directly, Majesty, as representative of the court wizards and the D-titled wizards."  He dropped his confrontational tone and said, "Truly, Majesty, none of us wish the Lord Fai any ill.  It would grieve me—all of us—terribly should harm befall him, and even more to be the source of any harm.  I merely convey our gratitude that Your Majesty took the necessary steps once Your Majesty's eyes were opened to how—how mammoth, how colossal, the Lord Fai's power had become, and how swiftly."

"The avalanche," Ashura murmured.  The avalanche had, indeed, alerted him to how terribly strong Fai had grown.

"Yes, Majesty," Suhail said with unusual gentleness.  "He is but nine years old and has accomplished a feat that no other D-titled wizard in history could have managed, and yet he is not wearied in the slightest.  For his own sake, and for ours, he had to be restrained.  I trust the spell is only temporary?"

"Yes, it can be removed," Ashura said dully.  It would fail and vanish when Ashura died, letting Fai's power fly free.  Fai would then become what he always should have been.  "I never intended it to be permanent."

"Then all will be well.  I know what you had to do upset you, but it is for the best.  You will see."

"I doubt the other mages will be so comfortable with this as you," Ashura muttered.  "Have others aside from the D-titled wizards sensed it yet?"

Suhail shook his head.  "No, but they will.  All present of great strength and skill will become aware before the night is done, such as your cousin.  Given your startling announcement, it is not so surprising that the knowledge is not yet widespread.  They are all still distracted.  Do not be concerned, Majesty.  Many others have the same fears as I.  They will understand, as I understand."  He smiled.  "Children are often restrained so that they do not rush ahead too far, or into danger, before they are ready.  I believe this case no different.  Lord Fai is much too willing to leap into dangerous situations without thought, as today has proved.  When he has mastered fully his magic and matured, the spell can be removed.  Or perhaps you could alter it over time, to lessen its hold upon his power in stages so he can adapt slowly?  Yes, that might be a better way."

Ashura had no intention of reducing the phoenix marking's restraint of Fai's magic.  His death would lift the spell, and nothing else would interfere with it.  "That seems a reasonable course of action.  Your suggestion is a wise one."  Just not one that could ever be put to use.

Suhail nodded.  "Then, Your Majesty, I believe you have done what you must.  I know the personal cost to you was high.  I am grateful that you did what was necessary, despite your own misgivings and conscience."

Ashura recalled how his wizard had, after recovering from his surprise, seemed oddly approving when he and Fai had entered court.  Had Suhail and the others truly been so concerned about Fai's power levels?  All this time?  He sighed, wishing that Suhail had said something earlier yet perversely glad he had not.

He knew he wouldn't have listened, anyway.

"I don't think Fai truly understands what the spell means for a wizard, to be crippled in such a way," Ashura confessed, bowing his head.  "He is aware that it suppresses his magic to help him control it, true, but he also believes it a mark of my favor, a gift of magic and of...of love."  He choked on those last words, even though they were true.  He planned to destroy his entire kingdom to preserve Fai's life, and he had restricted the growth of Fai's power for that very same purpose.

Suhail looked at him with peculiar sympathy.  "And so it is a mark of favor and love.  You cannot allow him to become too dangerous, or too threatening, for his own good."

"Perhaps," Ashura said, head still lowered, unable to meet Suhail's eyes.  Yes, it was a gift of love to save Fai's life, but it was also an abomination, and when Fai learned...relearned...the truth...  Ashura's thoughts skittered away from his other crime, his tampering with Fai's memory...  "He's just a little boy.  I want him to express himself naturally, to fly free with his learning.  But if he is always testing his new limits, pushing against them...I don't know how this will work out in the long run."  He rubbed his face.  "I just don't know..."

"Ah, my child," Suhail said, reverting to the grandfatherly tone he had often used when Ashura was a child and on the verge of tears about some minor failure.  He reached out and stroked Ashura's hair, just once, but the touch was comforting all the same.  Suhail said, "Everything will work out for the best.  This is only a temporary restraint upon him.  You'll see.  Everything will be fine.  Everything will be as the gods ordain."

Ashura raised his head, his mouth hanging open just a little.  Why was this so easy?  Why was everything going the way he wished?

Why wasn't Suhail bringing down thundering denunciations upon his head?  Instead, the wizard looked like he approved of everything Ashura had just admitted.

"Suhail," he began, and hesitated, not wanting to lose the easy agreement or the approval.  Suhail had not mentioned the spell's possible abuse.  Could it be that his wizard had not once considered that his king might misuse it?  He hated to bring up the subject, but he must before Suhail got it into his head.  Ashura could not allow even a whisper of that idea to gain traction in Seresu's magical community.

"Majesty?"

"Please, I hope this is an unnecessary reassurance, but know that I will never, ever use that spell again.  None need fear it.  I swear it upon my soul, and upon the souls of all my ancestors.  I will swear any oath you desire."

A broad, natural smile spread across Suhail's features.  "I know, and that is why I trust you with it, Majesty."

So simple.  Could it really be this simple?  His wizard's approval of the way he had restrained the growth of Fai's power, symbolic of his people's terrifying trust in him?

Even Fai's naïve, childish faith in him was horrifying and undeserved.  Though he did it all to save Fai, he could never merit the trust that Fai bestowed upon him.

No one else knew what the future held.

He would betray all his people, but at least he had been honest about never using that restraining spell again.  It was pretty pathetic as justifications went, but he held tight to it with all his soul.

 


	53. Chapter 53

The feast turned into a wonderful party.  Most attendees found an opportunity to personally congratulate Fai.  Many toasts were raised in his honor.

Fai enjoyed the marvelous food, accepted the compliments with grace, and stayed close to Ashura.  Despite the festive air, he was subdued.  He kept darting odd glances at Ashura, and sometimes looked like he wanted to say something, but then would close his mouth and turn his face away.  He would chat with apparent enthusiasm when others conversed with him, but Ashura could see that something troubled him.  Ashura could have created an opportunity to speak with Fai privately, as he had done with Suhail, but he was too craven, too shamed by what he had done.  His heart was raw, and he feared to face his victim so soon after his crime.

He cursed the avalanche, the Witch and the sorcerer, the feathers, and himself.  He cursed himself most of all.

Whenever a servant passed by with another pitcher, Ashura refilled his cup.

The party continued long after Fai had been sent to bed.  A variety of wines flowed freely and words even more so, though even the insults were merely good natured jibes due to the happy occasion.  A very drunk Taishakuten even suggested to Ashura that he should declare an official holiday in honor of Fai.  As by then Ashura had also indulged too much, he responded that he would seriously consider it.  Wine proved an effective anodyne to his guilt, at least for one night.

The next morning brought more than the usual regrets of imbibing too deeply.  Despite his quest for forgetfulness through alcohol, Ashura had at least used a detoxification spell when he went to bed—or rather, when his personal body servants put him to bed.  He wouldn't have remembered, but they had prompted him, recalling their master's foul mood the last time he had neglected to use that curative measure.

As Ashura dressed he thanked them all and gave each a gold coin as reward.  They were treasures, seeing to his wellbeing when he could not be bothered to do so.  He disliked hangovers, and was grateful that his servants had spared him that particular misery.

However, the disquiet and pain that continued to plague him did not come from a night of intemperance.

He broke his fast as usual with Fai and Kendappa.  His conversation must have been ordinary, as neither of his companions remarked on anything of note.  The benign atmosphere changed after Fai left for his morning lessons.   Kendappa turned to him with a martial light in her eyes.

"And so goes the mighty Champion of Seresu, King's Shield and Hero of Nyaidem-Yamalo, to a little boy's lesson in history," was her caustic comment.

Yes, Ashura had known she would not let it pass quietly.  He put a hand to his head and waited in silence.

"Is it true that Fai didn't have any supervision at all yesterday?" she demanded.  "Is it true you knew he was out wandering all alone?"

"How did you know that?" he responded thoughtlessly, and winced at his mistake.  He shouldn't have confirmed her accusation.

"You did know!  You fool," she snarled.  "One of your pet wizards got drunk last night and mentioned it to me.  He assumed I knew all about it and was curious how you'd slipped up.  He said you were supposed to watch Fai yesterday, and thought that Fai had somehow escaped you to end up in such danger."

"Oh."

"He said he understood," she went on, waving a contemptuous hand, "that Fai was very hard to supervise even for a whole group of wizards, and that Fai could easily evade just one alone."

"And may I ask who told you all this?"  Ashura would need to remove that wizard from his service.  He wouldn't tolerate such an indiscreet tongue among Fai's supervisors.

Kendappa folded her arms over her chest, huffed, and ignored his question in favor of her renewed rant.  "Ashura, how could you?  I know you were here in the castle all day.  Why would you let Fai run loose like that?  Look what happened!  He could have been killed!"

"But he wasn't."  That was not Fai's destiny.  "Instead, a town was spared Nadenda's fate."

"Only because he's so impossibly powerful!  Any other child—"

"Fai is not any other child," Ashura stated coldly.  Normally, Kendappa would be correct, but Fai had a terrible and awesome fate, a role to fulfill that would daunt even gods.  He was not just "any child."

She made an aggravated noise and covered her face with both hands.  When she dropped them to her lap, her frustration was plain:  her lips were compressed in a hard line, and her eyes sparked with anger.  "You both got lucky," she said tightly.

"I know," he said in a quiet, subdued tone.

"I've told you before that you allow Fai too much latitude and independence.  Ashura, promise you will keep him on a tighter leash.  For his sake, please promise that much."

"His guardian wizards resume their duties today," he replied.  It was not a promise, but it seemed to satisfy her.  "It was just a trial, Kendappa.  Just to see how Fai handled himself.  Normally he is so responsible..."

"So now you see where your leniency with him leads," she said.  "He is only nine years old and cannot be trusted to behave as an adult."

"I cannot raise him as an ordinary mage-child, cousin.  He is too powerful.  You may not fully realize this, but he could swat me aside any time he wants, and it has been so ever since I first brought him home.  I can only work with him and hope he is willing to please me."

"He is always willing to please you," she snapped.  Ashura lowered his eyes, and she softened.  "I've said all this before.  He loves you and will do whatever you ask."

Not everything, Ashura thought.  That very love would bind Fai's heart too tightly.  One day, Fai would be most unwilling to perform just one important but terrible task that, for the sake of his own life, _must_ be done.  That was why Ashura had made himself a target for the dark sorcerer's curses by restraining Fai's power.  The dark sorcerer's scheme would backfire on him and stymie the rest of his wretched plans.  Fai would live.

Ashura smiled inwardly at the bitter justice.  He and that polluted sorcerer would both get what they deserved for their vile, despicable actions, but Ashura accepted the celestial judgement and went to his fate willingly.  He knew the sorcerer would not, and that knowledge provided him a perverse and vindictive satisfaction.

"One day Fai may not be so biddable," Ashura told her.  "You know that.  Even the court wizards are daunted by the merest thought of his coming adolescence.  You and I have discussed it often enough and debated ways to deal with it."

"And never really come up with any good solutions.  Even with the restraining spell you set upon him, he will be a terrible handful."

"Suhail said you'd notice that spell," Ashura muttered, unreasonably annoyed by her knowledge and the casual way she had announced it to him.

"Of course I did.  What magician wouldn't?  You didn't even try to disguise it."

Ashura grunted.  "There was no point.  It's visible even to non-magicians."

"It doesn't reduce his powers at all, though."

"No, that wasn't possible.  It just keeps them from growing beyond all comprehension.  As you said, he will be a terrible handful.  Probably all but unmanageable considering how strong he is."

She chortled at him.  "The same was said of you when you were young, you know.  I suppose you will have to deal with Fai as your own parents and grandparents dealt with you."

"Oh."  Ashura considered that unhappily, remembering some of his own stunts and outbursts.  He had no doubt his father and grandfather would have cheerfully used the restraining spell on him had it been available to them, and neither would have experienced even a twinge of the guilt, regret, or shame that Ashura felt.  "I sometimes lament that I am turning into my father."

"Just as well.  It means you have finally become an adult."  Kendappa laughed.  "I remember your adolescence vividly," she added with twinkling eyes.  "You were a terror."

"Oh, and I suppose you were perfect and never caused any trouble."

"Not compared to you or your brother," she teased.  "I tremble to think what Fai will be like.  He puts on a great show of being dutiful, but we've both seen the mischief that lurks under that polite manner.  He will be even worse than you, I'm sure."  She smiled at the memory.  "There are bound to be a few hormone-driven tantrums to contain.  I recall how upset he was when he first came here.  He almost crashed the entirety of Luval Castle and Mountain into the earth."

"You know that wasn't deliberate," Ashura defended his son.  "He was so terribly upset at the time, he couldn't control his magic.  You've told me before that you didn't fear Fai would cause harm to our country, and yet now you bring up that incident?"

"He won't cause harm, not on purpose, though we both know well that there may be some close calls."

They spent some time reminiscing about their childhoods and teenage years, and parted for the day with amity.  Kendappa went to perform her usual household duties, which in fact meant that she supervised most of the day to day activities that kept the castle in order, and Ashura retreated to his office to see what kingdom complications the day would offer.  That it also provided a refuge—or, to be honest, a hiding place—went without saying.

Kendappa would be hard to replace.  He realized that he would need someone to govern the domestic functions of Luval Castle.  Normally, a close female relative like Kendappa would be expected to work with the stewards and court officials to ensure smooth running of the castle functions.  Or a queen.

His council had never really given up on the idea of finding him a new queen, but Ashura still shied from the thought.  He used Fai as his excuse, believing that the child might be upset by such a drastic change in the household.  Ashura decided instead to coax his sister by marriage, Sybilla, to move to Luval until he could make other arrangements.  While she was all but useless at running a large estate for profit, she was a competent manager of household affairs.  Her ability had been demonstrated during King Ukko's visit during the midwinter festival.  She and Kendappa had planned and managed the event with exquisite precision.  She also managed the regular households in her and Tancred's properties.

Additionally, Tancred was fifteen and could be left home to learn estate management with the stewards, bailiffs, and instructors Ashura already provided.  It would serve as a good excuse for Tancred to get some experience outside of his mother's influence, and Ashura had sometimes pondered how to accomplish that without insulting Sybilla.  If necessary, more helpers and teachers could be sent to aid Tancred should there be need.

There would be a further benefit to establishing Sybilla in Luval:  she would bring her other two children with her.  Mielu and Virender were fine companions for Fai.  It would be good to have them underfoot again.  Perhaps they could entice Fai into happier thoughts, and help him to again forget his past and his promises to the dark sorcerer.

Now, if only Ashura could find a way to do the same for himself.  He left instructions that he was not to be disturbed by anyone except Fai, and buried himself in paperwork.

 


	54. Chapter 54

By his own count, Ashura had read the first two paragraphs of a roofing supply requisition thirteen times.  He couldn't seem to get past that second paragraph and get on to the actual details of the materials needed and their cost.  He did know that the last storm had damaged the barracks housed beneath the floating mountain.  The troops garrisoned there had carpenters and roofers at their disposal, but their supplies needed replenishing before the next winter storms swept through.  He had that much memorized.

Normally, other court officials took care of that sort of thing, but Ashura was distracting himself.  Besides, he needed to sign off on large expenditures that came out of the castle treasury, anyway.  Might as well review the entire request.  He tried again, starting with the third paragraph this time.

Who was he fooling?  With a dispirited sigh, he set the papers down on his desk, leaned forward, and rubbed his eyes.

All attempts at distraction were doomed to fail.  He knew that.  He knew he was just running from himself, that he was trying to avoid his own thoughts.  He wanted to avoid thoughts of everything to do with his current life.  Even Fai.

Especially Fai.

But there was no escaping those dark thoughts.  They bubbled to the surface like thick sludge, smearing all about them with their black tar.  They stuck to everything.  All obstructions were as mere sieves to them, letting them push through in long, gooey ropes of guilt and shame.

He might as well just let them in, he thought in resignation, and with that the floodgates opened.  He again relived those horrible moments when he realized what Fai had become, when destiny had asserted itself yet again, and he had bound Fai's power.  Those moments when he had violated Fai's very mind, altering the boy's memories.

Ashura groaned aloud and buried his face in his hands.  He had no right to be among normal, decent people.  He was a monster, and he just kept proving it over and over in ever new and creative ways.

What had he been thinking?

Thinking?  How delusional.  He hadn't been thinking; he had been panicking.

He simply couldn't let it go, or even push it away for a short period of time.  He castigated himself again—and again and again—for telling Fai the truth about his wish, about the need to bind the child's power.  For altering the child's precious memories to hide that very truth.

Experiences, knowledge, and memories were the foundations of a person's sense of self, of personality and identity.  What had he done to Fai?  How could he have done it, and how would it affect Fai's further development?  What would become of Fai due to Ashura's crime?

What was wrong with him? Ashura wondered.  What kind of despicable person did something like that to his own son?

He was a skilled liar with a lifetime of training and experience.  Deception and misdirection came as easily as breathing to him.  He lied all the time:  to himself, to Kendappa, to his courtiers and servants, to his subjects, to foreign ambassadors and diplomats.  He lied for his kingdom's interests, his own, and for Fai's.

He lied by omission whenever he had a prophetic dream that he could not share with others.  Look at that avalanche.  He hadn't warned Fai, his court, or the town, and no one had known enough to prepare.  If that wasn't dishonest, what was?  And yet it was necessary.  By hiding his knowledge, not warning anyone, he had helped to fulfill destiny.  He thought of another who facilitated destiny by silence and misdirection, the Witch of Dimensions.  Did she suffer the same kind of guilt for her deliberate inaction, her ambiguity, obfuscation, and lies of omission?

Lying was a way of life for him.  Why couldn't he have simply lied to Fai in the first place?  A simple lie would have reassured Fai, swept away his insecurities.

Ashura could have told a lie and then found another time to mark Fai with the magic restraining spell.  He hadn't needed to do it immediately, not while Fai's mind was disturbed by thoughts of his promise to the dark sorcerer and worries about his promise to Ashura.  At any later time, Ashura could have offered the phoenix mark as a gift, a touch of his own magic for Fai to keep, without reference to his own, cursed wish.  He could have waited a little longer, just a few days, and bestowed it without the real explanation.  A calmer, more settled Fai wouldn't have asked any questions, then.  Fai would have accepted the marking and the lies that would have accompanied it—probably quite happily.

_You were probably too late with the restraining spell, anyway_ , the dark shadows in his mind whispered to him, and he feared they were correct.  In that case, what would a day or two have mattered, when the spell should have been set months ago?  He was too late with everything.  Always too late, and everyone in Seresu would die for nothing...

For one wild, heedless instant, Ashura considered removing the restraining spell from Fai, allowing the child to gain the true magical stature that his amazing power should have vouchsafed.  Ashura could replace the spell with one that truly was nothing more than a phoenix marking with a touch of benign magic.  Fai would never know the difference, and he could then become what he had always been meant to be.

But Ashura knew that would only be a sop to his guilty conscience, a mere bandage on wounds already inflicted.  Besides, he should not allow either doubt or sentiment to rule him.  There was always a chance that he hadn't been too late, that he could still succeed.  He would succeed, he told himself firmly, and Fai would survive the horrific future.  Ashura had to believe that.

Besides, it was providence that he hadn't bound Fai's power any sooner, true providence that he had procrastinated and stalled and avoided even thinking of it.  Now that he'd had some time to consider the subject, he realized that it was best for Fai.  His delays had probably saved Fai's life.  Destiny had demanded Fai face that avalanche to collect those two misbegotten feathers, and his power had needed to grow enough for him to succeed.  Had Ashura restrained Fai's power any sooner, Fai would certainly have...died.

Ashura couldn't bear the idea that he might have killed Fai with the restraining spell as surely as if he'd put a sword through Fai's heart.  Perhaps the gods weren't as cruel as he sometimes believed.  Perhaps his inaction and blindness had been a boon granted by greater powers in the universe, rather than his own selfishness, his willful ignorance and procrastination.

Perhaps he was only deluding himself.

It didn't matter, though.  In the end, everything had worked out.  All his own lapses and dithering had been what fate had demanded of him.  He was but its tool.

But poor Fai...

Ashura rubbed a tiny bit of moisture from his eyes.

Perhaps he should stay hidden for a while longer.  His emotions were still too raw, and he wasn't fit to see others or be seen by them.  He would keep to himself until he could be sure that his crimes, his guilt, were buried deep, disguised and hidden from the rest of the world.

At least something good would come of Fai's nightmarish encounter with that avalanche.  It would silence any who might still doubt Fai's worthiness of the D title.  After that feat, no one would dare to ever again question his suitability for that highest of magical honors, or Ashura's reasons for bestowing it.  In that sense, Fai's triumph at Nyaidem-Yamalo had served him very well indeed.  No other wizard in the whole world could have broken an avalanche like that and saved an entire village, and no one could ever deny it.

However, like Kendappa, others with authority would still question Ashura's reasons for letting such a young prince wander at will throughout the kingdom.

The incident with the avalanche made obvious to Ashura that even magical guardians were all but useless.  Only Fai possessed the kind of power needed to overcome the greatest forces of nature.  What use could supervisory wizards be if Fai became embroiled in another such crisis?  All they could do was report the child's activities.  Despite this, Ashura would not dismiss them from their duties.  They provided the appearance of protection for Fai, and mollified Ashura's friends and advisors somewhat.

But in the end it didn't matter what they thought.  One day, nothing would matter but Fai's life, because everyone else would be gone.

Ashura got up and went to the window.  Outside, the sky was dead gray, with a thick cover of heavy, dire clouds.  The weather had been so odd lately.  Deep winter had passed, having been colder than anyone living had ever experienced, and now spring was late in arriving.  He felt it fitting that the day was so dreary.  It matched his mood.

Seresu's axiom of royal authority, "The King and the Land are One," came into his mind.  If he really worked at it, Ashura could affect the weather magically, just a little.  He also knew that his mystical connection to Seresu could sometimes affect the weather without his deliberate action.  The weather reflected his mood, his hopes and his despair, more and more often.  Was Seresu going to grow colder and colder, as his heart grew colder and more fearful with each passing year, until the day he finally went mad and murdered his country?  He gazed morosely at the gloomy sky, and with a sigh returned to his seat behind his desk.

His destructive line of thought was derailed when someone knocked softly.  A familiar presence glowed on the other side of the door.  Ashura knew who it was, and hesitated.  Per his own orders, no one else was permitted to interrupt him.

Even with the restraining spell on him, Fai's magical aura filled all the empty space around him, betraying his emotional state.  Someday, he would have to learn better control over that, Ashura thought.  But he also knew that it probably didn't bother anyone else, that he was just uniquely sensitive to Fai's magic.  Fate itself had made him thrall to Fai's destiny.

Fate, and a dark magician who had cursed a little child...

"Come in, Fai," he called, although this child was the person he feared most this day to face.

The door cracked open and a blond head peeked in.  "King Ashura?" Fai said tentatively.  "Are you busy?"

"Not at all."  Ashura set aside the papers he had been attempting to read.  He hadn't accomplished anything useful, anyway.  All he had done was brood and indulge in fruitless self-pity and self-castigation.  "You are providing a welcome distraction."  He got up and walked around to the front of the desk, telling himself that he was grateful for the break.

He almost convinced himself.

Fai stepped into the room, let the door swing shut, and came over to him.  The child looked, well, not nervous, precisely, but not comfortable, either.  His manner was not unlike that at the feast the night before, when he had kept eyeing Ashura and almost speaking but then shutting down.

Ashura felt sadness steal over him, and a renewed surge of guilt.  Perhaps, on some unconscious level, Fai still possessed some residual emotions from Ashura's actions the previous day.  Perhaps the memory adjustment hadn’t been as perfect as Ashura wished, and Fai had some uneasy sense that Ashura had transgressed.  Perhaps Fai would never be completely comfortable around him again.

That last thought made Ashura's heart weep.  "Yes, Fai?  Did you want something in particular?"

Fai scuffed his toe against the floor.  "I—I was supposed to show you something," he said earnestly.  "The guards at the castle entrance yesterday...they said you'd like it a lot."

"Oh?"  Ashura tilted his head, curious.  He thought back.  He'd been pretty upset by the time Fai had returned after that incident with the avalanche, but he did recall that Fai's emotions had been a tangle of black despair, nerves, profound depression and self-doubt:  overpowering feelings that had masked everything else.  Had there been more there that Ashura had missed?

"I was going to show you yesterday when I got back.  I really was.  I don't know why I forgot..."  Fai frowned, confused.

Ashura felt a stab of guilt so sharp it might have been a blade piercing his breast in a death stroke.  "It's all right, Fai.  It doesn't matter."

Fai shook his head.  "It does matter.  The guards said it would make you happy.  I shouldn't have forgotten."

Just the fact that Fai had returned alive made Ashura happy.  What had come after...well, there was no helping that.  Not now.

"I thought about showing you at the feast, but I wasn't very good at it.  I was afraid it would turn out wrong.  I've been practicing this morning, though, so I could get it right..."  Fai looked up at him, his big blue eyes guileless.  The corners of his mouth twitched with odd, unfamiliar spasms, then settled into what on anyone else would be an unremarkable expression.

It was tiny, just the merest hint of a smile.  But as Fai gained confidence, it grew wider, and even showed a hint of teeth.

It lit up Fai's whole face.  It was like sunshine, like a brilliant blue sky filled with birds and butterflies.

Ashura stared, overcome, not believing what he was finally seeing.  He wanted to say something encouraging, but sheer happiness rushed through him and stole his strength.  His throat closed.  This one, small smile was something Ashura had never really believed he'd ever see, and despite its forced nature, it filled him with transcendent joy.

Fai was waiting, his fragile smile fading and uncertainty returning at Ashura's silence.  Yet Ashura found he still couldn't speak.  His whole body felt weak.  So he did the only thing he could:  he dropped down to his knees and pulled his son into a fierce hug.

Fai hugged him back, but asked worriedly, "Did I—did I do it wrong?"

"No, child," Ashura choked out.  His eyes were burning.  He hugged Fai tighter.  "You did it perfectly.  Absolutely perfectly."

"Then why aren't you happy?  The guards said it would make you happy!"

Ashura realized he was trembling.  He blinked rapidly to clear away the mist over his vision, and felt hot moisture run down his face.

"Are you...are you crying?" Fai asked.  He pulled back a little to touch Ashura's cheek.  "Why are you crying?  They said you'd be very happy!"

Ashura wiped his face and grinned.  "I am happy, child.  So very, very happy.  You have no idea."

"But, but...I made you cry..."

"Tears aren't always sad, Fai.  Sometimes people cry when they are filled with so much happiness that it spills over into tears.  They have no other way to express their joy.  It's a very good thing."

"Then it's all right?  Should I do it again?"

"You should do it as often as you want, Fai.  As often as you can," Ashura told him.  He was still shaking ever so slightly.  He released Fai and gently cupped the boy's face with both hands.  "Your face was made for smiles."

Fai smiled again, and this time it was less forced, more natural.  He leaned in and hugged Ashura around the waist.  "I'm glad.  I promise, from now on I'll try to remember to do it for you."

Ashura wrapped his arms around the child and rested his head lightly on top of Fai's.  That "I'll try to remember" broke his heart.  He hoped that someday Fai wouldn't have to remember, that smiles and even laughter would come as naturally and easily as breathing.

The room brightened.  Ashura turned his head toward the window and beheld a patch of blue sky.  A fresh rush of joy went through him.  This one small gesture from Fai...it made everything seem beautiful.  Everything Ashura had done, everything to come—it would be all right.  Everything would be all right.  He knew his euphoria would fade, that his fears and doubts would return, but for now?  Now was perfect, and he would enjoy the moment with all his heart.

He lifted Fai in his arms and stood up.  "Look, Fai.  Even the weather likes your smile."

"Not really," Fai protested, and he smiled once more.  "The weather can't like a smile.  That's silly."

"No," Ashura told him.  "It's perfect."

 

** *** end *****

 

_February 2013 – August 2017_

 


End file.
